Meetings and Letters
by slytherinrules85
Summary: Hermione Granger was very happy at her job, overtime was left behind in her loyalty to her boss. But, one day she was walking down Diagon Alley, she bumped into the person she least expected. But will that person be unwelcome? COMPLETE!
1. The First Meeting

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do however own Oliver Wood, Draco Malfoy- struggles as J.K. Rowling's lawyers smother her I don't own any of them!  
  
A/N: All right, well I know I said that I'd only publish this story when I had five chapters already written, but I couldn't resist the urge, and here it is! Anyway, I won't be putting the next chapter up until the forth chapter is finished. So, I hope you like it, and please review!!!!!!!!  
  
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One  
  
The First Meeting  
  
After her graduation, Hermione Granger had been offered a job in Diagon Alley. When asked, she would smile and just mention something about it being a "bookworm thing." In truth, she worked for the Department of Mysteries. She was a reasercher for several Unspeakables.  
  
At this very moment, she was turning a corner, heading towards the nondescript building that she worked in, when she ran smack dab into a large, warm shape.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she exclaimed. She started tio gather up her books, and bumped into the very person she had already knocked over.  
  
"I believe that these are yours," said a soft, lilting Scottish accent.  
  
Hermione glanced up. A man, perhaps in his early twenties, with curly dark brown hair, was holding out three dusting volumes that happened to be extremely valuble. "Oh, dear, oh dear," said Hermione, collecting the volumes from the man. "Thank you for picking these up for me. They're extremely valuble to my research, and without them..."  
  
The man laughed. "Here, I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name's Oliver. Oliver Wood. And you?"  
  
Hermione's eyes widened. "Oliver Wood? The old Quidditch Captain?"  
  
Oliver nodded. "Yes, I was Captain during my school years. Did I know you?"  
  
Hermione blushed a bit. "Oh, we had a common friend." She shifted some books, and held out her hand. "It's so nice to see you again Oliver. It's me, Hermione Granger, Harry's friend."  
  
Oliver gaped a bit. This sprite couldn't possibly be little Hermione Granger, the girl who'd quick thinking had almost won them the Gryffindor- Hufflepuff match in his seventh year, could it? "Hermione? Really? Well, you've certainly changed since we last saw each other, haven't you?"  
  
Hermione grinned. "Growing up does that to people, Oliver. So, how's the job at Puddlemere?"  
  
Oliver grin twisted into a expression of dislike. "Not there anymore. Rotten-" he struggled to remain composed "-people. Kicked me off two years ago."  
  
Hermione looked a bit embaressed at mentioning it. "Oh, Oliver, so sorry," she said. She glanced at her watch. "Oh, bugger. I'm late. Look, Oliver, I've got to drop these books off at my office. Would you terribly mind if I asked you to meet me a the ice cream place in fifteen minutes? My boss won't mind if I take the day off."  
  
Oliver grinned. "And then we shall catch up! See you there," he said, walking in the opposite direction.  
  
Hermione power-walked all the way to her office. She walked into her boss's- -who happened to be Athur Weasley's brother, Alan--and went to his desk.  
  
"Hello, Hermione," said Alan, smiling. "And how are we this morning?"  
  
"Very well, Alan," said Hermione. "I've put the books back into my office, I've gotten all I can out of them." Alan nodded his approval. "And I'm going to take the day off, if that's all right."  
  
"Oh, fine, fine," said Alan. "You've left your notes, I presume?"  
  
Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out several large binders full of notes. "Here you go. You'll probably still be reading them tomorrow, too."  
  
Alan Weasley watched Hermione go. In all his years, he had never seen someone who could take so many notes in one weekend! Scratching his head, he went back to work.  
  
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Hermione walked down the busy street to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. She reached the gate into the little area Florean had set up and looked over to where Oliver was sitting under an umbrella looking at his sundae.  
  
"So, what kind of sundae is that?" asked Hermione, as she crept up on Oliver.  
  
Oliver jumped. Ice cream spilling out of his mouth, he turned and glared at Hermione. "Do you have to do that?" he asked, a drop of honey-colored ice cream dripping down his chin.  
  
Hermione grinned. "Yes." she picked up a napkin, and wiped it up. "What kind of sundae?"  
  
Oliver stuck his tongue out and crossed his eye at her, extremely childishly. "Quidditch."  
  
"They make a Quidditch sundae?" said Hermione, amused. "Fascinating. What's in it?"  
  
Oliver leaned back in his chair and looked at Hermione seated in the porch chair across from him. "Well, you start by taking some Quidditch-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and mishing them together. Basically, you make them into sprinkles. Then, you put a couple scoops of some delicious cinnamon-cream flavoured ice cream into a bowl, pour some hot fudge on them, and put the sprinkles on top. All together, they're so scrumptious, you can't help but eat them."  
  
Hermione laughed. "So, you endorse sundaes, Oliver?"  
  
Oliver shook his head, smiling. "Only in my free time. I've been offered-- and have accepted--a job as primary Keeper for England's team. They saw me in the Puddlemere games and figured that I had something that Puddlemere didn't recognise."  
  
"And what is that?" said Hermione, leaning back, her eyebrow sailing into her forehead.  
  
"Lean closer," said Oliver, beckoning her with his finger.  
  
Hermione came closer.  
  
"A special talent for making the team energized," he whispered.  
  
Hermione laughed, returning to her original position. "And you used that during your school years?"  
  
"Oh, yes," said Oliver. "The Slytherin-Gryffindor in your third year? Harry told you how depressed I was?" Hermione nodded. "All an act."  
  
Hermione's eye shot open. "No way," she said, mouth agape. "No way! Harry said that you were so down cast that you probably would have drowned yourself if you hadn't won that game!"  
  
Oliver grinned. "Well, Hermione, no matter how crazy I am about the game, deep down I know that it is just a game!" He chuckled, obviously remembering something. "Ah, good times, good times."  
  
"Oh, my gosh!" exclaimed Hermione. "Wait until I tell Harry and Ron!"  
  
"Whoa!" said Oliver, holding up his hands. "You can't. If they knew, their image of me would be shattered. And when you're in the Quidditch biz, it's almost all about image!"  
  
"Really?" said Hermione, chuckling herself. "Also fascinating."  
  
"So, what do you do?" Oliver inquired, looking into her eyes.  
  
Hermione squirmed. She wished he'd look away! His eye were seemingly holding on to her's, looking past the outside. "Oh, it's a bookworm thing. You wouldn't be interested in it."  
  
Oliver cocked his head. "Try me," he said simply, keeping eye contact.  
  
"I really, well, I really can't tell much," said Hermione, a bit embaressed.  
  
"Well, that's OK. Tell me what you can," said Oliver kindly.  
  
'He's interested in my job,' thought Hermione. 'Ron and Harry never inquired after I blew off their questions.'  
  
"Well," she started, "I work in the Department of Mysteries as a research and development kind of person. Mostly just research, though. Lots of old, dusty tomes filled with obscure facts."  
  
"Really," remarked Oliver. "You know, I could've had one fo those jobs, too, if I'd wanted one."  
  
"Really?" said Hermione, resting her chin of her hand. "Do tell."  
  
"Well," said Oliver, preening, "when you get a 'O' for Outstanding on your N.E.W.T.s, you can usually get whatever job you want, but I decided to try Quidditch until I get to old, or get maimed or something."  
  
"Well," replied Hermione, flicking through her menu, "you are so modest and positive I can hardly believe it." She stopped at a page. "Do you think that the 'Modiva Dark Chocolate Truffle' ice cream sounds good?"  
  
"Yeah, I've had it before," said Oliver, looking at his menu. "It's way to much chocolate for me, though."  
  
"Ah." Hermione grinned. "But I'm the Queen of Chocolate."  
  
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"I cannot believe you ate all that ice cream and still had room for a huge scoop of cookie dough in a waffle cone!" exclaimed Oliver, walking next to Hermione. They had left Diagon Alley and were heading back to Hermione, Ron, and Harry's place for a spot of tea.  
  
"Told." Hermione took a lick. "You." Another lick. "I could." A huge, gigundo lick followed this. "But did you believe me? No."  
  
"Forgive me," said Oliver, doing a sweeping bow. "I shall never doubt you again, your majesty of Chocolate."  
  
"Oliver, my dear, I always forgive my loyal subjects," said Hermione, patting his shoulder.  
  
Oliver grinned at her. "Ah. So you're one of those kinds of queens," he said, a bit loftily.  
  
Hermione looked at him, a bit amazed, and a bit sarcastically amused. "And what kind of queen is that?" she asked, smiling faintly.  
  
Oliver stood on her porch and smiled. "Soft-hearted," he said smiling.  
  
'Aw,' thought Hermione. 'He think's I'm sweet...'  
  
Grinning at him over her shoulder, she pulled her keys out and opened the door of the townhouse she shared with Harry and Ron, just outside of Notting Hill.  
  
Stepping inside the foyer, Hermione looked back. "Well, come on in."  
  
Oliver followed Hermione into her house. She threw her keys onto a glass plate with little glass pebble on it.  
  
He noticed her glance down at the plate. "Ah," said Hermione, picking up two other sets of keys, "looks like the cowboys are back at the ranch. Shall we?" She dumped her purse onto a chair that was next to the table.  
  
"So," said Oliver, "are they going to hate me because you bought me home? For tea, I mean."  
  
Hermione laughed. "No, they aren't that bad anymore. Ron used to be horribly jealous of anyone who I went out with, but a brief relationship in seventh year changed that. After that, he would try and set me up with any male human who breathed!" She laughed, and went into the kitchen.  
  
"So, Ol, what kind of tea do you fancy?" asked Hermione, opening a cabinet filled to the brin with tea. "For some reason, people will insist on giving me tea for Christmas. Most annoying. I do wish someone would give me something else for once." She looked at him, and laughed again. "So, what kind of tea?"  
  
Oliver laughed his lovely Scottish lilting laugh, and grinned at Hermione, leaning up against the counter. "Some berry tea, if you've got any. Can't stand Earl Grey or English Breakfast. Have to have some kind of berry tea, if I drink tea at all."  
  
She leaned up against the counter and looked at him, smiling slightly. "Berry tea," Hermione said, musingly. Turning back again, she pulled the tea out of the cupboard and put the metal kettle onto the stove.  
  
"What kind of tea is your fancy?" asked Oliver, rolling his eyes sarcastically behind her back.  
  
"I saw that," said Hermione, putting the tea bags into two large Starbucks collector mugs. "And I like jasmine. I don't know why, but I've always liked jasmine."  
  
Oliver shrugged. "I like the smell of it, it's very peaceful, but the taste drives me nuts. It's just horrid."  
  
Hermione laughed. "Well, I drink it when I need to wake up and I've got some importent work to do."  
  
"Which is just about everything," said a voice from the kitchen door. They turned and saw Ron leaning in the doorway. "So, 'Mione, who's the bloke?"  
  
"Ron!" said Oliver. "It's brilliant to see you! Heard you work for the Chudley Cannons now. Glad I'm out of the national league. Hate to go against a Weasley."  
  
Ron's eyes widened. He poked his head out of the kitchen to yell something. "OI! HARRY! IT'S OLIVER!!!"  
  
A muffled noise came back.  
  
Ron's face contorted. "I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE--WAIT A SEC. DID YOU SAY 'GINNY'?"  
  
"Oh, no," muttered Hermione to Oliver. "Grab him." They got to Ron just before he went after Harry, who was apparently in his room snogging Ginny.  
  
A moment later, Harry and Ginny came downstairs, hair and clothes tousled. Ron gave them a Death Glare.  
  
"You," he said, pointing at Ginny, "are lucking I'm not going to owl Mum about this. And you, Harry," the menacing finger swung over to Harry, "had better treat my sister right, or I will owl Mum."  
  
Harry grinned. "Well, when you're engaged, I really don't think that it matters if you're making out in your finace's room."  
  
"Well, be that as it may--Wait, did you say engaged?" said Ron.  
  
Ginny held out her left hand. A lovely gold ring with a circular diamond was on her ring finger. "Harry proposed! We were at lunch, and he just goes and kneels and pulls out the box and proposed and of course I said yes!" She paused for breath. "We're going to show Mum now and Hermione who's your friend?" All eyes slid to Oliver, who squirmed a bit.  
  
"Well, Ginny, you may not remember him, but this is Oliver Wood. The old Quidditch captain before Angelina and Harry." Hermione smiled at her friends.  
  
Harry's face split in two. "Whoa, mate, it's been a while!" Then he gave Oliver a guy hug. You know, when they slap hands and then give a small hug. "So, I heard you are now the Keeper for England, eh? Great job!"  
  
Oliver cocked an eyebrow at him. "How'd you hear about that? It hasn't even been annouced yet, and I only told Hermione."  
  
Hermione cleared her throat and glared at Harry. "Well, since Harry quit the Aurors, he was offered a job as the head of the Department of Sport and Games. All changes in Quidditch team lineups goes through his office. If you look at you contract carefully, you'll see his name in there somewhere."  
  
Oliver looked at Harry, a bit impressed. "Head of the Department of Sport and Games? Impressive, Potter. Knew your fame could get you anywhere."  
  
Harry laughed. "I actually couldn't stay with the Aurors because I'm famous. Kept getting asked for autographs from suspects. So, I jumped at the chance to be the Head of Sport and Games. Thank God that there aren't to many Wizard sports."  
  
Oliver laughed. "I'm sure you've got your hands full with just the Quidditch league. As they changes players quite often."  
  
A look of exasperation crossed Harry's face. "Yes. I've been up to my eyeballs in requests and announcements for the changing of players. I've had to tell at least fifteen teams that they just can't change their entire lineup for every single game! It's quite annoying." He glanced down at Ginny. "But Ginny's been very supportive, haven't you love?"  
  
Ginny grinned. "Of course. I can't let some other female be supportive of The-Man-Who-Lived. Then he'd probably retract his proposal to me."  
  
Everyone laughed, especially Harry.  
  
"So, Ginny, what do you do now?" asked Oliver, leaning on the counter next to Hermione.  
  
Ginny cleared her throat. "I am the assitant to the Assitant Minister of Magic," she said, in an all-important voice.  
  
Ron smirked. "Basically, she works for Percy," he said snidely.  
  
Everyone but Ginny shuddered at the horrendous thought of having to work for Percy.  
  
"Hey!" exclaimed Ginny. "He's not too bad!" Joint shudder. "Well, not to me," she added, "or Mum'd kill him."  
  
"Very true," said Ron sagely. "I remember when you were four I told you that if you ate watermelon seeds, that a plant would grow in your stomach. Mum was furious at me, and Dad had to step in to make sure I stayed alive." Ron shuddered. "Sometimes you being the only girl isn't fair to the rest of us."  
  
"Well," said Harry, putting an arm around Ginny's shoulders, "it's all right with me."  
  
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Hermione and Oliver went back to Diagon Alley, as Oliver had a meeting to go to.  
  
"So, they haven't changed a bit, have they?" asked Oliver.  
  
"Not at all," said Hermione happily. "And I'm glad for it. I'm not all together fond of change. So, them not changing is quite refreshing, actually."  
  
"Well," said Oliver, pausing before a large red building, "this is where I leave you."  
  
"Say, Oliver," said Hermione. "Would you like to get together again sometime? Just to talk and stuff? It's been lovely being able to chat with you."  
  
Oliver grinned. "That'd be brilliant! But, the season's staring up soon, and I've got a lot of training." Suddenly, inspiration struck him. "We could owl each other, and would you like to come to some of my games?"  
  
Hermione smiled. "That'd be nice. Here's my address." And she wrote down her address on a piece of parchment in her bag. "Write me whenever. Alan doesn't mind when I take off work, since I bring work home a lot and overtime is now my new middle name," she said, laughing.  
  
"Well," Oliver said, folding the paper and putting it into his pocket, "I'll write you as soon as I can, and send you tickets whenever you're free."  
  
"That'd be lovely," said Hermione turning. "See you around, Oliver!"  
  
"See you, Hermione!"  
  
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A/N: All right, so what did you think? The next chapter's got more action in it, but even though this is a romance, Hermione and Oliver are going to be friends for a long time before they fall in love....But, for my Tutoring A Dragon fans, the epilogue will be up in a bit! I just haven't had any inspiration lately. But, I hope you like Meetings and Letters. Thank you for reading, and please review!!!!!!!! 


	2. A Letter And A Day Off

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Oliver Wood, yes, Harry Potter, no. HAHA! I'm just playing with you, I don't own any of them. Or Marks & Spencer or Europa. Or Cadburys, even though it's really delicious.  
  
A/N: Ok, well I said I wouldn't update until the fourth chapter was done. I can't wait!!!!!!!! So, here's the second chapter, slightly shorter, but more action. Hopefully you'll like it. Please review!!!!!!!!!  
  
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Two  
  
Dear Oliver, wrote Hermione.  
  
How's training coming? Be sure to strech before practice, otherwise your muscles will cramp. Believe me, it's happened to Ron a million times. He never listens to me! Urgh. Men. Excepting you, of course, Ol, dear. You're perfect! I've been meaning to ask you: What shampoo do you use? You've got this lovely, curly, manageble hair and I want it! So, what shampoo do you use? And if you say it's the same as Professor Snape, I shan't believe you! I went on my lunch break the other day, and got a sundae. It made me think of you telling me that if I ate that much chocolate, I'd pass out. Good times, good times. When are you going to be in London next? I'm free until Christmas, as I'm visiting my parents and the Weasleys. Though, I might get lost in the Burrow so don't be suprised if you don't hear from me for a few weeks after Christmas. I'm at work right now, and I've got to get back to translating some Bulgarian ancient runes. Stupid things are bloody unintelligeble. When you write back, send your letter with Mynos. She'll stay with you until then. Ta!  
  
Yours,  
  
Hermione  
  
Oliver smiled to himself as he folded the parchment. Stroking the owl that sat on his bedstead, he got up from his bed, where he had been laying, and got dressed.  
  
He had recieved Hermione's letter in the shower. So, when he read it, he was wearing a bathrobe that was open at the neck, and had Hermione seen him she would have scolded him about getting a cold.  
  
Nevertheless, he was very pleased to get Hermione's letter. At the moment, he was in northern England, training at a height like the Eithiopian Quidditch team--they were so used to low oxygen levels, that when they had to go very far up to catch the Snitch, they didn't pass out due to lack of oxygen.  
  
He had just finished a very hard training session with his new team. Although there were a lot of people he didn't know there were some familiar faces: Katie Bell, his old Chaser and one-time girlfriend was a reserve for the team, and was traning with them up in the mountains, just in case.  
  
Also, Cho Chang was working in the administration for the team, not having been accepted as even their third-string Seeker. But, he tried to avoid her, on account of something Hermione had mentioned in an earlier letter.  
  
Walking over to the dresser, he picked his wand up and cast a warming spell. He sighed, the feeling of a nicely warmed blanket being wrapped around him returning after his original charm had worn off. Now warmed, he pulled out some clothes, choosing a pair of jeans and a Gryffindor-colors sweater to wear that day.  
  
Streching, he yawned and heard the bones in his spine cracking. He laughed, and left the small apartment that the team had provided, intent on walking down to local supermarket to buy something to make for lunch, since it wasn't very far off, and breakfast and dinner you ate with the team.  
  
He went into the Marks & Spencer and blinked at all the Muggle things. Luckily, Hermione had realized that he would have to go to a supermarket, so she told him what to do when in one in a letter. So, he picked out a bacon sandwich on rye. It had a lot of mayonaise, but he didn't mind as long as it was food. He didn't like the look of the drinks, so he bought the sandwich and went to another grocery store, Europa.  
  
He glanced at the signs that showed where the things were, and wished Hermione were there. Inspiration struck him, and he rushed out of the store and to the Wizard building his apartment was in.  
  
He strode past the frazzled desk clerk, and into the bark room where the fireplace and the floo powder were.  
  
Throwing a handful in, he said loudly, "Hermione Granger's office," and stepped into the fireplace.  
  
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Hermione was sitting at her desk alphabitizing files in a drawer because she was bored, when a whooshing sound came from her fireplace.  
  
Looking up, she saw Oliver Wood dustin himself off.  
  
"Oliver!" she said, suprised. "What are you diong here?"  
  
He grinned, and grabbed her arm. "Here. Come with me." Pulling her over to the fireplace, he grabbed another handful of floo powder and said, "Building 341, The Grand, Carlisle," and pulled into the fireplace after him.  
  
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They popped back into Oliver's hotel a few seconds later.  
  
"Oliver, where am I?" asked Hermione, dusting her clothes off.  
  
He smiled. "We're at my apartment building in Carlise. It's in northern England, where I'm training. And now, you're going to help me grocery shop. I only have to have food for lunch, since the team provides breakfast--if you can call it that--and dinner."  
  
"Ah," said Hermione, letting Oliver pull her out of the apartment building by a very disgruntled Cho Chang. "So, have you been to Marks & Spencer?"  
  
Oliver wrinkled his nose. "Their food is fine, but I didn't like their selection of drinks."  
  
"Hmm," said Hermione, leading him towards Europa. "Well, let's get you some water, and some soda. Do you have a ice box?"  
  
Oliver nodded, thinking of the fridge in his room. "Yeah. I think so. But, you'll have to have a look at it."  
  
Hermione nodded, putting some soda, water, a little thing of Ben and Jerry's in Oliver's basket. Spotting something, she gave a little peep. "Ah! And you'll want some Cadbury's, of course. Do you like crunchy, or just plain chocolate?" She glanced at Oliver, who shrugged.  
  
"Don't really care," he said. "Never had anything but plain, I guess."  
  
Hermione tutted her disapproval, and put a large bar of Cadbury's into the three-quarters filled basket. When she went for a box of cookies, he pulled the basket out of her reach. "I think I've got enough, thanks." And they went to the check out, where Hermione told Oliver what to do, quietly, of course.  
  
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As they walked through the doorway of Oliver's building, they heard a sugary sweet voice coming towards them from their right.  
  
"Oh, Oliver!" it said, sing-songily. They turned to see Cho Chang sitting in a chair with her legs crossed to their right. "Where've you been?"  
  
Oliver rolled his eyes, exasperated, before answering. "Hello, Chang," he said, in an worn-out sort of way.  
  
Hermione hid a snicker, turning away so that Cho didn't see her.  
  
"You didn't answer my question, Ollie," said Cho, getting up and brushing some imaginary lint off of Oliver's shoulder, who tensed at her touch.  
  
"Get off, Chang," he said gruffly, pushing her away. "I was out with....a friend."  
  
A his mention of 'a friend', Cho's eyes swung to Hermione. "You mean her?" She walked around Oliver and her eyes narrowed to slits. "And who are you?" she said, a snide tone in her voice.  
  
"She's my friend, Chang," said Oliver, a warning in his voice.  
  
"Hermione Granger," said Hermione. "It's....well, not very nice to see you, Cho. I don't believe we've spoken since you were so horrible to Harry in fifth year."  
  
"You!" said Cho, her eyes snapping open to become wide circles. "How do you know Oliver?"  
  
Hermione, knowing Oliver's temper type, looped her arm through his. "Oh, you know, old friends." She smiled. "Did you hear, by the way? Harry's engaged."  
  
"No, I didn't hear," said Cho, something coming into her eyes. "To whom, by the way?"  
  
Hermione blinked at her innocently. "My good friend, Ginny Weasley. They've been dating for ever, practically."  
  
Cho blinked. "Oh, I didn't-Excuse me," she said, hurrying away.  
  
Oliver turned to Hermione, astounded. "How did you do that? She's been trying to, well," he blushed, "you know, ever since I got here."  
  
Hermione shrugged as they walked to the lift. "I just knew what would get to her. She never really got over Harry, you know. He says she still owls him every once in a while. Tries to get him to go out with her. Pathetic, really. Now, what floor are you on?"  
  
Oliver pressed the button, and they were silent for the ride. The lift doors opened, and they walked to a nondescript door, whereupon Oliver put his bags down and pulled his keys out and opened the door.  
  
"After you," said Hermione, picking his bags up. "No, really go ahead."  
  
He went ahead, and was glad he did, because he had a chance to kick some dirty clothes under the bed before Hermione saw them.  
  
"So, where's your refridgegerator?" asked Hermione, smiling amusedly, knowing fully what the frantic leg movements were for. "Because we should really put these groceries away before they go bad."  
  
"Oh, of course," replied Oliver, taking the bags from her and placnig them beside a medium sized fridge in one corner of his small apartment. He opened the door of the ice box and placed the items from his bags into it.  
  
Hermione, who was standing next to his bed, laughed. So neat and clean, he was!  
  
"Oi! Oliver, coach says it's time for....Blimey! You've a guest!" said a voice coming from the door.  
  
Oliver looked over. "Oh, hello Gerald. yeah, I've a guest. Had to floo Hermione in because I couldn't figure out some Muggle things."  
  
Gerald was still staring at Hermione. "You're Hermione Granger!" he exclaimed. "Harry Potter's friend! You and Ron Weasley saved the world!"  
  
Hermione blushed. "Not really. It was all Harry, really." She smiled at Oliver. "Clearly you've got somewhere to go, and I've got to get back to work." She gace him a small hug. "See you in a bit, Ol." She was almost at the door when she turned around. "Don't forget to write!" And left, laughing.  
  
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"Mate, you know Hermione Granger?" said Gerald McKeogh, incredulously. "You are friends with Hermione Granger?"  
  
Oliver and Gerald were walkign through the streets, going up to the mountain where the pitch and team offices were.  
  
"It's not a big deal," said Oliver, raking his hands through his luxurious curly auburn hair. "I knew her and Harry and Ron in school. I was Harry's captain in Quidditch until his third year, when I graduated. Met up again at the Quidditch World Cup, then nothing for years. Then we met again in Diagon Alley a month and a half ago, and have been writing each other since."  
  
"And," continued Gerald, as if Oliver hadn't said a word, "you've got a crush on Hermione Granger!"  
  
"I do not!" said Oliver crossly. "And you'd better keep your mouth shut in front of the team!"  
  
"Oliver and Hermione sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marrige, and then comes baby in a baby carrige!" sang Gerald.  
  
"Shut up, Gerald!" said Oliver, even crosser. "I do not!"  
  
"You don't what?" asked June Weatherby, a Chaser.  
  
"Nothing," said Oliver, clapping his hand over Gerald's mouth. "Nothing at all, right Gerald?" He glared at Gerald, slowly removing his hand.  
  
"Right," said Gerald, backing away from Oliver. "Don't be so sensitive, mate. I get it, you're only friends with 'er."  
  
"With who?" asked Katie Bell, old friend of Oliver, and now a Chaser for England. She glanced at Oliver. "Does the little Ollie bear have a crushy- poo?" She giggled, and grinned at Oliver.  
  
"I am only friends with her, and that is all I am going to say!" said Oliver, pushing past them and going into the office.  
  
"Ooooh," they said, impressed and his definsiveness. Then they went in after him.  
  
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Inside the office was where the team ate and hung out, a common room, so to speak. The team was comprised of Oliver, who was Keeper; Katie Bell, June Weatherby, Gerald McKeogh, who were Chasers; Eddie and Ian Alister, who were Beaters; and Simon Hartfield, who was Seeker.  
  
After a month of trainging together, they were all in an easy friendship. However, sometimes they would conspire to get one of the members to tell something they didn't want to tell. So, they played Truth or Dare.  
  
"Oliver," said Simon, struggling not to smirk, "Truth or Dare?"  
  
Oliver sighed. He hated Quidditch Dares. So he always picked Truth. "Truth, Si."  
  
Simon grinned evily. "All right, then. Who is the most famous person you know who you're good friends with?"  
  
Oliver thought for a moment. "That'd be a toss up."  
  
"Between who, Ollie?" they whined.  
  
Oliver grinned. "Fine, I'll tell you. Between Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and the Weasley twins of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes." He frowned at them. "And don't call me Ollie!" he said as an afterthought.  
  
"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Fred and George Weasley?" said Simon, in shock.  
  
"Oh, is that what this is about?" said Katie, nonchalantly. "Well, then, I know all of them, too. Plus this," she held her left hand out and there was a lovely diamond ring on her ring finger. "George and I are getting married in six months," she pronounced, a happy expression on her face.  
  
"Yeah, Kat, Gerald has some harebrained idea that I've a crush on 'Mione." He glared at Gerald. "Which I don't, of course!"  
  
"What," said Katie, atsounded, "she and Ron aren't together?"  
  
Oliver shook his head. "Nope. Apparently, they dated in their seventh year, and that cured them of their oh-so-obvious puppy love." He laughed, remembering something. "You remember when he thought her cat killed his rat?"  
  
Katie laughed, doubling over. "How could I forget?" she said. "There was pandimonium in the common room for weeks! He was so stubborn!"  
  
"I know!" said Oliver, laughing some more. "Ah, good times, good times." He looked at his watch. "Well, would you look at that? It's time for dinner!" And he hurried out of the room and towards the dining hall.  
  
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A/N: So, what'd you think? This is my favorite story yet. Not that TaD isn't lovely, but Oliver's character is really fun to write. So, please, please, please, please review!!!!!!!!!! 


	3. More Letters, And A Return

06/16/04  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own Oliver Wood. I do not own Cadbury. I really do not own 13 going on 30, even though it's a good movie. Watch it. I don't own--or even use--the shampoo called Pantene. I do know that when they have free bottles of it at military bases, they're always empty. ::grumbles::  
  
A/N: ok, I'm using the 2001-2007 setting for the school years. I know, I know, it's not really acurate, but I wasn't a teenager during the nineties. I don't know what they did. And I'm not allowed to watch the movies. Anyway, here's chapter three. Most of it is in letters, which shoule be in Italics. Blame the stupid 'Quick Edit' thing FF.net has going now. It doesn't allow a lot. Anyways, here's chapter three, hope you like it!  
  
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Three  
  
August 16, 2008  
  
Dear Hermione, wrote Oliver.  
  
How's work going? Here, not so good. Training's fine, actually. It's the bloody snow every single bleedin' day that's driving me up a tree, if there were any here. Hmmm.....Shampoo...What kind of shampoo do I use? Let me go check. ........ Ah! Found it! It says Pantene Pro V Volume and Conditionizer. Since you visited I've become very popular in the team. Everyone wants me to get them an autograph from you! Finished the food we bought. Chocolate was lovely. Bought more. Am now existing on almost complete chocolate diet. Haven't gained a pound. No! Don't throw the letter into the fire yet! I've got news!  
  
My news is that training is over! I'll be back in London next week, if all goes well. Currently I'm just studying the terrain up here for when we have our first game--this fall, against the Scottish team in Edinburgh. We'll have to go up there to study the pitch, but we should be ready for them! The game is on October 16, can you come? I'll send you tickets if you can.  
  
Cheers,  
  
Oliver  
  
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August 19, 2008  
  
Dear Oliver,  
  
So glad to hear that your training is over! It means you and I will have more time to hang! Bought some of that shampoo. Has worked wonders on previously carniverous hair. No longer snaps at brush when try to de-tangle it.  
  
Inclosed are signed photos of Harry, Ron, and myself. We rarely, if ever give them out. It makes us blush when people remember who we are, even if we did save the Wizarding world from an evil Dark Lord. Please give photos to team members and as gag gifts. Have heard that one Cho Chang would love a signed photo of everyone's favorite hero. Also inclosed is a special one of him and Ginny from their engagement party.  
  
On the subject of the party: Have never seen Harry not breathe for that long. Was he bobbing for apples, or swimming? you ask. No. He and Ginny spent the majority of the party snogging in a corner. At one point Mrs. Wealsey had to hit them with her handbag to break them up. Only twice did they come out on their own free will. When they opened presents (yours truly gave them a crib. Ginny blushed like a fire engine), and when the served cake. Wonderful cake, actually. This lovely chocolate creme......Hmmm. Must owl Mrs. Weasley, get the recipie.  
  
So, an all chocolate diet, eh? It only works as long as you keep up with a fierce training regimen. Did the same thing in the War. Wouldn't eat anything but Cadbury's for weeks afterward. Love the stuff. Have I mentioned that they have ice cream? You must come over and we'll have some and watch a movie. Something sappy. Like 13 Going on 30. My cousin, who lives in America, saw that movie and loved it. She told me to get it from me video rental place, and I did, and two days later, I bought it. I think you'll like it. It's got this lady who totally hot, trust me.  
  
I'm actually at work right now, writing you. Alan just poked his head and said, "Ah, glad to see you catching up on your social life!" Sometimes I wish I didn't work with a Smary Weasley. Tell you what, they are all very sarcastic and they think they're the funniest things known to man! Anyway, I've just looked at my calender, and it says (literally, I'll kill Harry and Ron for giving me a talking wall calender. According to it, I've got to catch up on a social life. Will it be complaining when I burn it?) that I'm free on the sixteenth. However, I must ask you if you are free for the thirtieth? I'm having a Halloween party at the house, so just Apperate to the foyer. It's costume, so have fun picking out a disguise!  
  
Anyway, I'm currently learning braille. It's fascinating! Wonderful to read, as they have entire books in it! So, since my letter has spanned an entire roll of parchment, I'll say goodbye.  
  
Yours,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Wednsday, August 30, 2008  
  
Dear Hermione,  
  
I hear you. All Weasleys are troublesome beasts. I'd tell you what Fred and George did for my fourteenth birthday, but it might kill you.  
  
I am glad that my shampoo helped your hair problems. My older sister, Olivia (don't ask about our names, I have a younger brother named Owen, frankly we think Mum's crazy), gave me a bottle in second year. Her words were: "Here you great prat, use this and your hair won't distract you from your precious Quidditch." Olivia is three years older than me, so she had graduated the year before you came to Hogwarts. The reason she's so shrewish is because she's a Ravenclaw. They're always like that. You won't know Owen because he's a great deal younger than me. Sort of an suprise for our family. He was born in my third year, so he's just now gotten into school. He's a Gryffindor, no suprise, as all Wood men have been, and all Wood women have been Ravenclaws.  
  
The signed photos have greatly increased my standing in the popularity of the team. I'm now at the top of the food chain, the head honcho, the Head Minkey in the Minkey house, or I'm at the top of the team politics right now. So, I've a lot of power. I gave Cho the photo you told me to. She glared at me, pulled some matches out, and burned it. Man, people in photos can really wail.  
  
Seriously, Mrs. Weasley hit them to get them to stop snogging? Wow. I had to hit Fred once in fourth year when he and Angelina wouldn't pry themselves away from each other. You gave them a crib? Isn't that a bit presumptuous? Note to self: Owl Harry my three-hundred Galleon gift certificate to Wizard Babies 'R' Us. When I get back you want to make that cake for me? I haven't had any homemade food for the longest time. (Actually, it's been about two months, but it seems like forever.) And a lovely piece of chocolate creme cake would be, well, lovely! Sure, I'll watch the movie. I've seen this one called Center Stage before. It was really dramatic. I liked it, but don't tell anyone since it's a horrendously chicky chick flick.  
  
You're at work? I'm in the team's common room writing you. Gerald and Simon (Gerald's a Chaser, Simon's our Seeker) tell me to tell you "Hi" and that they put your photo in their locker. Excuse me, but gross. Not that you aren't gorgeous but really, them putting your photo in their locker? Very creepy. I have told them so. The rest of the team [WHO ARE NOT SPYING ON MY LETTER-WRITING: GERALD AND SIMON] are watching some Wizard soap, As the Brooms Zoom, or something like that. Horrendous stuff really. Ooh, Jack's finally proposed to Mia! Er, that won't erase, will it? Yeah, so I watch soaps. You know how much happens at the top of a mountain? Nothing. That's what happens. Absolutely nothing. It's a good thing that I'm coming back to London in two days. Otherwise, I'd go nuts with all that isn't happening.  
  
Yeah, I'm free on the thirtieth. I love Halloween parties! I'll try to come as something historic, or something nobody knows, because it's Muggle. What do you think of Jack Sparrow, from the movie Pirates of the Carribean? I loved him! He was so funny! I saw the movie when it came out, as my sister is married to a Muggle born, so she dragged me to the cinema. Looking forward to seeing you on Friday!  
  
Cheers,  
  
Oliver  
  
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Hermione was waiting by the Knight Bus stop at noon, that Friday, to pick Oliver up. Tapping her toe, she looked at her watch, and stepped about a foot away from the curb.  
  
The huge purple bus came hurtling up, and had Hermione been where she was originally, she would have been bowled over.  
  
Out of the bus came seven people in scarlet sweaters. All of them had duffel bags, and they were all stamped with the English Quidditch team emblem.  
  
Hermione waved to Oliver, who was behind everyone else. He grinned back at her, and waved jauntily. Walking over, she was instantly surrounded by the other team members.  
  
Oliver pushed through his teammates and glared at them. "Honestly, she saved the world. Now give 'er some peace." He turned to Hermione and smiled. "So, we meet again, young Jedi," he said, grinning. She'd told him about the Star Wars movies once a long time ago. Since then, he'd rented the videos and watched all the movies.  
  
Hermione laughed. "Oliver, Oliver, Oliver. Honestly! Harry and Ron and Ginny are over a Florean's waiting for us. Ron wanted to come with me, but changed his mind at the last."  
  
Oliver's eyebrows went up. "And why would that be?" he asked, repositioning his duffel bag.  
  
"Padma Patil," said Hermione simply. "They've been dating on and off for quite some time. And she's been in France for two months on assignment, and they haven't seen each other for that long, so don't be suprised if their faces are somehow magnetically attracted."  
  
Oliver laughed. "Well, let's go then." He glanced over at his teammates. Looking back at Hermione, he leaned closer to her ear. "Is it okay if they come? They really want to meet Ron and Harry." Hermione nodded, and Oliver looked behind him again. "It's okay if you come," he said loudly. Everyone immediately picked their gear up and followed Hermione and Oliver.  
  
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"Oliver!" said Harry, standing up. Hermione, Oliver, and the rest of the team had made it to Florean's, and were standing by the table where Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Padma were sitting. "It's good to see you! How was training? Did you make it as horrible for them as it was for me, once upon a time when you were my Captain?" He and Oliver shook hands vigorusly.  
  
"Harry," said Ginny, "you're going to give him whiplash if you shake any longer." She smiled at Oliver. "It's nice to see you Oliver. Ever since you and Hermione started writing, she's been a lot more live-oof!" Hermione had kicked Ginny. Hard. And in the shin.  
  
Ron grinned, and cough a remarkably laugh-sounding cough. "Oliver, it is nice to see you." He glanced behind Oliver and Hermione. "So, did you bring the entire team?"  
  
Oliver grinned. "Yeah. They really wanted to meet the Man-Who-Lived, and his best mate, Ron Weasley."  
  
An expression flitted over Harry's face that could only be described as 'pained'. It was quickly masked, however and he smiled at the team. "I can actually tell you it's a greater pleasure for me to meet the Quidditch team for England than for you to meet me." He walked over to Simon. "So, you're Simon Hartfield, eh? Loved you in this year's World Cup. The way you beat the Chinese Seeker to the Snitch was beautiful." Harry closed his eyes, savoring the memory.  
  
Ginny walked over to Simon. "Hello, Simon. I'm Ginny Weasley, Harry's finacee." She flicked Harry. "Honestly, Harry, do I have to ask Mum to talk to you about the Quidditch thing?"  
  
"No, no, no, no," said Harry. "And look, here comes our desert." He looked over at Oliver and smiled. "We ordered for you, I hope you don't mind."  
  
"Actually, Hermione ordered for you, Oliver," said Ron. "She got you the Quidditch sundae, or soemthing like that."  
  
"Really?" said Olvier, casting an amused eye at Hermione. "And she got the Modiva Chocolate sundae, I presume?"  
  
Hermione laughed, much to the confusion of Ron. "Yeah, she did. How did you know?"  
  
Oliver looked off into the distance. "Oh, you know. I know these things." And he and Hermione started to laugh.  
  
"Really," said Ron, looking at Harry with an I-told-you-so expression on his face. "That's fascinating."  
  
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"So, Hermione," said Ginny, on their way to the ladies' room at Florean's, "what's going on in between you and Oliver?"  
  
"What do you mean, Gin?" asked Hermione, standing in front of the mirror, applying some more lipstick.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes, annoyed. "What I mean, my dear, is are you and Oliver dating?"  
  
Hermione looked shocked. "I am shocked!" she said, turning to Ginny. "Completely shocked! There is nothing romantic going on between Oliver and I!"  
  
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Back at the umbrella-covered table, Oliver was getting the same treatment.  
  
"So, Oliver," said Ron, clapping Oliver on the back, "when did you and 'Mione start going out?"  
  
Oliver had just taken a drink of water, and it came spraying out of his mouth. "Wh-What?" he spluttered. "We-We aren't dating! Honestly, we are just friends! Nothing more, nothing less!"  
  
"Uh-huh," said Ron.  
  
"Sure, you are," said Harry, his eyebrows arching. "And so are Ginny and I."  
  
"We are just friends," said Oliver, emphasising friends. And that was all that was said on that subject.  
  
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A/N: Poor Oliver. Nobody likes his answers. I love this pairing. It's my favorite, after D/Hr. I'm trying to breathe life back into the O/Hr community right now. Hopefully, my fans from my previous story will like this one, and bring their friends to it. But, that's not a problem, as I don't care, just as long as people like this story! So, please review!!!!!!!!!! 


	4. England vs Scotland, And A Party

06/19/04  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or Oliver Wood. ::glares at JKR's attorney's, who are poking her into saying this:: And I don't own the song "I believe in a thing called love," by The Darkness, which you should listen to if you ever get the chance.  
  
A/N: Ok, well this chapter is my semi-favorite so far. I really like the third chapter best. I'm sitting here at my computer desk while my brother plays a really violent video game. Let me ask him what it is....::turns to brother:: "A, what game is that?" "Oh, it's called Shodow Ops, Red Mercury. Why?" "Oh, nothing." ::looks back to readers:: Sorry. It's really violent, believe me. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, as it's all you're getting for a while!!!  
  
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Four  
  
Hermione and Oliver continued meeting for lunches, and occasionally double- dated. But, their main corespondence was letters, since Oliver was away on games for a lot of the time. But, October snuck up on Hermione and before she knew it, it was two days before she was to go to Edinburgh for Oliver's England-Scotland game.  
  
She wasn't altogether sure what to bring, so she owled Oliver, who was in Edinburgh already, asking him.  
  
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Dear Oliver,  
  
In two days I'll be joining you up there. Now, since you didn't inform me what the dress code would be, if we'd be going anywhere where I'd need something posh or not, you're going to have to take time out of your schedule to write me.  
  
Am I going to need something fancy? Casual? Dress-casual? Casual-dress? Black tie? Please owl me back. Mynos will stay until you send your reply.  
  
Yours,  
  
Hermione  
  
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Dear Hermione,  
  
You'll be glad to hear that I am taking my half-hour of personal time before the game to write you and tell you what clothes to pack.  
  
At the game, you'll be sitting in the Top Box, with my sister Olivia and her husband Leo. She, as I understand, will have her face painted with the English colors. So, you can wear jeans and such during the game.  
  
One of the other reasons I invited you is that the team is going to this-- hold on let me ask Katie--yes, it's a black tie party. So bring something posh, and no sequins, ok? I will be wearing some lovely black outer robes, with a white shirt and a--suprise, suprise--black tie. So, almost anything you wear will match my robes.  
  
I've got to go, as Coach wants us to do some routines before lights out. See you soon!  
  
Cheers,  
  
Oliver  
  
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Hermione Apperated into the building next to the stadium. She picked up her small suitcase, and walked out the door. Upon walking out the door, she bumped into a tall, curly-haired, lovely woman.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" said Hermione, helping the lady up. "I'm horribly clumsy today."  
  
"Oh, that's all right," said the lady. "You must be Hermione Granger." She held out her hand. "I'm Olivia Armand, and this is my husband Leo. I'm Oliver's older sister."  
  
Hermione grinned as she shook Olivia's hand. "It's lovely to meet you. Oliver's told me about you a few times. I am to understand that you are the secret behind his hair."  
  
Olivia laughed, and said, "Oh, yes. When he was thirteen, and first got on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he was so frusterated because his har wouldn't stay out of his eyes, it was so wild. So I gave him my shampoo. And poof! No more hair-blindness!"  
  
Hermione laughed. "And I was afraid that you'd be the absolute opposite of Oliver! It turns out that you two are quite similar!"  
  
Olivia was speechless, while her husband laughed. Hermione was quite undone. "Oh, dear," said Leo, through the laughter. "I'm afraid that my wife doesn't like being told that she and Oliver are alike. It quite unglues her." Leo patted Hermione's elbow. "Last time someone told her that she and Oliver were alike, she was speechless for a whole hour, which, I can assure you, does not happen often."  
  
Hermione grinned at Leo, and they laughed. Olivia sniffed. "I am not at all like Oliver. For one thing, I've actually married and am starting a family!"  
  
Hermione's eyes popped open. "You're having a baby? Oliver didn't mention-"  
  
Olivia simled smugly. "That's because he doesn't know. We haven't told him yet," she said, linking her arm through her husband's.  
  
Hermione giggled. "That's perfectly horrible!" she exclaimed. "He'll be perfectly crushed, and feel betrayed," Hermione grinned at Olivia. "But, it's the perfect revenge for a month ago when he flooed into my office and dragged me off to Carlisle to help him buy groceries."  
  
Leo, who was generally a very laid back man, was astonished. "Really?" He glanced at his wife. "It seems Oliver has become a loose cannon."  
  
Hermione shrugged. "Well, before then, we'd gone to Florean's to eat a great deal of ice cream. Oliver is quite adverterous."  
  
"Really?" said Olivia, in an amused way, and glanced at her husband.  
  
"Well," said Leo, nudging Olivia to shut her up, "let's go up to the box, shall we?"  
  
"Of course," said Hermione, following them into the stairwell.  
  
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Hermione pulled her Omnioculars, left over from the World Cup in before her forth year, out of her shoulder bag and looked at the English team.  
  
Oliver was by the goal posts, waiting for the game to start. Bored, he looked up to the Top Box. He saw Hermione sitting next to Olivia, looking over at him. He waved, grinning up at her. Hermione saw him and waved back, a English flag in the hand she was holding the Omnioculars.  
  
A moment later, the game started.  
  
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"Wow!" said Hermione, walking down to the team's changing rooms. "That was a close game, if Oliver hadn't of caught that last shot, Scotland would've won!"  
  
She stopped in front of a door marked 'Team Dressing Room', and knocked.  
  
"Yes?" called a voice from within the dressing room. "Who is it?"  
  
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "It's Hermione Granger. I'm here for Oliver. He asked me to come as soon as I could..." she trailed off as the door swung open.  
  
Standing in the doorway was a grinning Ian Alister. "So, you're Oliver's secret date, eh? Come on in. Everyone wants to meet you. And," he added as an afterthought, "Oliver's still in the shower. Katie says he's never won a game this close. Says it freaked him out. Oh," he said, sticking his hand out, "I'm so rude! I'm Ian Alister, this is my brother Eddie, this is June Weatherby, she's a Chaser; and this is Katie-" He was cut off by Katie and Hermione's squealing.  
  
"Ah! Hermione! You look so good! How've you been?" squealed Katie.  
  
"Just fine," said Hermione. "I hear through the grapevine that you're marrying George!" She winked at Katie. "You know, after you two broke up the summer before seventh year, he and I went out for a while. You've bagged yourself a good one."  
  
Katie grinned. "Don't I know it. A-" she started to say something, but was cut off by Oliver's entrance, soaked, towel wrapped around his waist, and rubbing his hair with another towel.  
  
He looked up and saw Hermione. His eye bulged. "Hermione! Oh, I didn't know that you'd be here so soon. So, um, I'm gonna get dressed, and then we'll go, okay?" He retreated into the seperate section for the actual dressing.  
  
June giggled. "I don't think I've ever seen him so embaressed before. This is a first." She grinned at Hermione. "See that it happens again, why don't you?"  
  
Hermione grinned back at June. "I don't think I should do that. He'd be so angry at me, I wouldn't be able to face him."  
  
"That'd be correct," said Oliver, leaning up against the doorway to the dressing room. He walked over to Hermione and looked her up and down.  
  
Hermione was wearing a gorgeous ruby red silk dress. It had small puff sleeves, and a Empire waist with a square neckline. Over the silk, there was some flower patterned red lace, with silver threads running through it.  
  
"Wow," said Oliver, eyes wide, impressed. "You look-You look," he looked embaressed. "Gorgeous." He turned away quickly, bright red. "Well," he coughed, "you ready to go?"  
  
"Look, Oliver, no sequins," she said, turning. She smiled, and slipped her hand through the crook of Oliver's arm. "Of course, my dear. Always." Hermione smiled at the rest of the team. "See you at the party."  
  
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The after-party was held at a local Wizard hotel named The Grand Merlin.  
  
Hermione and Oliver entered the ballroom, and the wizard on the mike started to say something.  
  
"And, here's our man of the hour! Oliver Wood, the man who saved the game!" said Mike Jensen, the head coach of the team. Applause broke out all over the room. When Mike saw Oliver's date, he looked suprised. "And his lovely date, Ms. Hermione Granger, everyone!"  
  
Hermione blushed, and turned her face away from the crowd, and into Oliver's shoulder. "Oliver," she said, going down the steps, "did he have to say that?"  
  
Oliver patted her shoulder. "No. I'll speak to him about that, all right?" Hermione nodded. "All right. Let's go get some champagne." And he steered them towards the bar.  
  
Only when they reached the bar did Hermione show her face. "Double whiskey, straight up," said Hermione. The bartender eyes popped open. She tapped the bottom of the glass on the counter, and downed it in two gulps. "Hit me."  
  
Oliver was far more conservative. "Champange, please," he said.  
  
While he was drinking his champange, and Hermione was in her second (and last) whiskey, Olivia and Leo came over.  
  
"Hey there," she said, looking first at Oliver, then at Hermione, then back at Oliver. "What's with her?" She tilted her head at the glass. "Is that whiskey?"  
  
Oliver nodded sourly. "Mike annouced that she was there. Her fame kind of...gets to her sometimes. This is her second double whiskey. After this, I'm only letting her drink champange."  
  
Olivia sighed, envy in her eyes as she watch Leo drink some champagne. "I wish I could have some," she said, sighing some more.  
  
Oliver offered her his glass. "Here. Have a sip of mine," he said, holding the glass right by her hand.  
  
Olivia pushed the glass away. "I can't," she said, pushing the glass back to Oliver.  
  
Oliver looked puzzled. "Why not? Are you pregnant or something?"  
  
Olivia smiled, looking away shyly.  
  
Oliver's eyes popped open. "You're pregnant? Pregnant? I'm going to be an uncle!" he grinned, and put his arms around his sister's waist, dancing her around. Stopping, he shook Leo's hand heartily. "Good job, Leo!"  
  
Hermione, who was looking at her whiskey glass reproachfully, smiled up at Oliver. "Oh, yes. We were discusing baby names this afternoon. She's having a boy!"  
  
Oliver stopped being so happy. "You told Hermione before you told me?" he said, hurt.  
  
Olivia smiled. "Yes, you've kept so many secrets from me over the years, and told other people before me so that I had to learn it through the grapevine, I thought you deserved to have it done to you. Plus, you really shouldn't floo to someone's office in the middle of the work day to have them help you buy groceries. It isn't at all polite," said Olivia. She looked at the bartender, who was pretending to not listen. "Bartender. I'll have a virgin strawberry daiquiri, please." She slapped a few Sickles on the counter. "I'll pay for their drinks as well."  
  
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A half an hour later, and three virgin strawberry daiquiris for Hermione later, Oliver grabbed her hand and pulled her out onto the dance floor, saying, "C'mon, let's dance." He pulled her to him, and smiled. "I didn't come all this way and not be able to dance with you," he said, smiling.  
  
Hermione laughed. "Thanks, Ol. I needed that. So," suddenly the music changed. "Oh, God, no!" she said, trying to squirm free. "Not this song. No, not this one!"  
  
"Oh, no you don't," said Oliver, holding tighter. "You're staying right out here on this dnace floor with me. No getting out of this."  
  
"Oliver, I hate this song," said Hermione, glaring at him. "Even when I'm in the car with my Muggle friends, I hate it."  
  
"What's to hate?" asked Oliver. "It's funny."  
  
Hermione crossed her eyes irritibly. "If you expect me to dance to this song, then I'm going to need another whiskey."  
  
"How about vodka?" said Oliver amiably. "It's better than whiskey."  
  
"Sure," said Hermione, crabbily.  
  
Oliver grabbed a shot of vodka off of a passing waiter's tray. "Here," he said. "Down it."  
  
Hermione tapped it against his shoulder, and downed the shot in a gulp. "Ah. Lovely."  
  
Oliver looked at her curiously.  
  
"What?" asked Hermione, placing the glass on another waiter's tray.  
  
"Nothing," he said. Then, suddenly, "Why do you tap the bottom of your galss against things?"  
  
Hermione considered this for a moment. "I don't know. I just do." She winced, hearing the lyrics of the song.  
  
---------  
  
"I wanna kiss you every minute, every hour, every day  
You got me in a spin, but everything is A OK  
Touching you, touching me  
Touching you 'cause you're touching me  
  
I believe in a thing called love  
Just listen to the rythem of my heart  
There's a chance we can make it now  
We'll be lookin' till the sun goes down  
I believe in a thing called love, ooh (it's on)"  
  
---------  
  
"It's so obnoxious!" she exclaimed.  
  
"How can you think it's obnoxious?" asked Oliver, dipping her. "It's funny!"  
  
"Pthhhhpb!" said Hermione, or rather, her tongue, since she blew a raspberry at Oliver.  
  
"Now," he said, pulling her to him, "that is so childish. How can you, Hermione I-am-the-most-mature-person-Oliver-Wood-knows Granger, be so immature?"  
  
"Easy," said Hermione, repeating her previous action.  
  
"Can I cut in?" asked Simon, standing next to Oliver.  
  
"Not bloody likely," said Oliver.  
  
Hermione smiled nicely at Simon. "Sorry, Simon, but only the Jaws of Life could make Oliver let go of me right now. I'm afraid I don't like dancing very much, and he had to get me half-way hammered to get me out on the floor."  
  
"Ah," said Simon. "Well, see you then."  
  
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Around two o'clock, Hermione told Oliver she was tired, and take me up to my room, now.  
  
So, he did.  
  
Standing at her door, he smiled at her. "Thanks for coming," he said, giving her a hug.  
  
Hermione hugged back. Turning the key in the lock, she said, "Any time. Really. Those parties are always fun." The door way halfway closed when she stuck her head out. "See you tomorrow?"  
  
Oliver grinned. "Of course, darling, of course."  
  
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A/N: Well, what do you think? I thought it was funny. I wrote it under the influence of I-SPY, (which I don't own the rights to) with Owen Wilson and Eddie Murphy. Now, Hermione doesn't have a drinking problem, but her fame gets to her sometimes. What do you think of Olivia? I like her.  
  
Next chapter: Meet Oliver's crazy Mum and sane Dad! 


	5. The Parent Visit, And Oliver Goes States...

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I took the idea of flying Wizard trains from a fic that was Hermione/Fred. I forget the name. I do own Olivia, Leo, Nigel, and Nancy though.  
  
A/N: Well, this chapter we meet the people from whom Oliver sprang. Does that scare you or what? I had fun writing them. Tell me if they need some tweaking, ok? Thanks.  
  
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Five  
  
The next morning, Oliver rolled over in his bed, his face on something that crinkled. A soft hooting sound woke him up.  
  
Under his face was a letter, addressed to him, from Hermione. He picked up a pocket knife off of his nightstand, and opened the letter.  
  
Dear Oliver, it read.  
  
So sorry that I had to leave. Had an urgent owl from Harry, and couldn't stay any longer. I imagine that you are scratching your head going, "What? Why'd Harry owl her here?" Anyway. Please give my apologies to Olivia and Leo, and tell them I'm very sorry to have not been able to have lunch with you and them, as planned. Also, I've a raging hangover. Anyway, Oliver, dear, I'll miss you, and please write back. Hope to see you soon.  
  
Yours,  
  
Hermione  
  
Oliver blinked, looked at Mynos, who was perched on his bedstead, put the letter on his nightstand, and went back to sleep.  
  
Two hours later he woke again to Mynos pecking his forehead.  
  
"Hoot, hoot," said Mynos, flicking his wing towards the mini fridge.  
  
"Oh, are you hungry?" asked Oliver grumpily.  
  
"Hoot!" hooted Mynos, jiggling.  
  
Oliver climbed out of bed, and trudged over to the fridge. Opening it, he pulled out a box marked 'Owl treats' and carried it over to Mynos. He handed the small barn owl a few treats as he settled under the covers again.  
  
Unfortunately, a knocking noise came from his door a few minutes later.  
  
"Bugger off!" yelled Oliver, towards the general area of his door.  
  
"Oliver Wood!" came the voice outside it. "How dare you talk to me, your mother, like that!"  
  
Upon hearing his mother's voice, Oliver jumped out of bed, pulled some pants on, and hopped over to his door. "Mum! I'm so sorry," he told his mother, hugging her and trying to do up his zipper. "I thought you'd be Gerald or Eddie, or someone. Please, forgive me."  
  
Nancy Wood smiled at her son. "Of course, dear." She kissed his cheeks. "We heard all of your game on the WWN yesterday. Now," she said, looking into his room, "where is that lovely young woman you sister said you came with?"  
  
Oliver's eyes popped open. "You mean Hermione? Oh, she had to go. Urgent owl, you know." He looked shrewdly at his mother. "Why are you looking in my-Oh." He blushed hard. "She-We-Oh, God." He looked heavenward. "Why me?" Looking back at his mother, he pulled her into his room. Sitting her down on his bed, he looked into her eyes. "Look, Mum, Hermione and I are just friends! She was in room 217 and, look, I'm in 235! Besides, she isn't really dating right now, since everyone who askes her out just wants 'Hermione Granger, the Girl Who Saved The World', not just 'Hermione Granger'."  
  
He looked at his mother, who had plastered a lok of innocence on her face.  
  
"I'm not dating her, Mum," he said, going to his dresser and pulling out a shirt. "And that's final."  
  
"Good," said a new voice, coming from the door region. Oliver looked over to see his dad, Nigel Wood, standing there. "Because you don't have to if you don't want to, right Nancy?"  
  
Nancy nodded sullenly. "Fine," she said, looking out the window. "I don't see why you can't date a nice girl for once, though." She looked sharpley into her son's eyes, examining them. "You aren't gay, are you?"  
  
Oliver's mouth dropped open. His cheeks turned as red as the Gryffindor banner. "God, mother! No, I'm not gay!" he said, looking imploringly at his father, who sighed.  
  
"Nancy, what did we talk about?" quried Nigel, putting his hand on his wife's shoulder.  
  
"Don't ask horridly personal questions," said Nancy, sounding like she had said this a million times.  
  
"Good job," said Nigel, handing his wife a gummi bear.  
  
Oliver grinned. His parents were so funny. "So, Mum," he said casually, knowing Olivia had told them about Hermione and not about the baby, "did Olivia tell you that she's pregnant?" He enjoyed his mother's expression, knowing that Olivia had most likely spoken to her that morning and not mentioned anything.  
  
"No, she did not," said Nancy, looking daggers at the section of wall that was in the path of her to Olivia. "She did not. And I spoke to her only this morning, too."  
  
"Well," said Oliver cheerfully, "isn't that lovely. You and dad should probably go talk with her and Leo, eh?"  
  
"Yes, I do believe we will," said Nancy, picking up her purse and heading for the door. "Come, Nigel."  
  
Nigel Wood followed his wife out the door looking amusedly back at Oliver, who was waving cheerfully at the shrinking backs of his parents.  
  
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A half hour later, Oliver was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, and a Gryffindor sweater. He left his hotel room, and went to the lift. Pushing the down button, he leaned against the lift doorway, day-dreaming.  
  
Ding! The door opened, and a voice intruded on Oliver's revelry. "Going down?" asked a bemused June Weatherby, looking at Oliver's spaced-out expression.  
  
"Yeah," he said, smoothing his sleeves. "Get some breakfast, you know. Get ready for the trek to America." The team was heading to the United States for their next game. Unfortunately, the Chaser that Katie Bell substituted for had broken her leg eight weeks earlier. So she was moved to third- string point Chaser.  
  
"I'm thinking of getting an omelette," said June, before looking around, frowning. "Where's Hermione?"  
  
Oliver batted an invisible something away with his hand. "She left last night. Got an owl from Harry, they needed her back in London."  
  
"Ah," said June, leaning on the wall of the lift.  
  
Ding! The doors opened onto the lobby. They went into the dining room and sat with the rest of the team.  
  
"So, what's up?" asked Eddie, across the table from Oliver. "Heard you yelling at your mum this morning." He elbowed his brother. "What'd Mum do if we did that, eh?" They laughed.  
  
Oliver glared at them, angry. "Don't talk about my Mum like that, you tweasels," he said sharpley.  
  
They blinked at him. "Tweasels?" they said, in unison after a moment or two.  
  
Oliver shrugged, rage dissolving. "Eh, it's all I could think of at the time."  
  
They grinned. "Eh, good enough." And then they scootched their chairs backward to tease someone at the table behind them.  
  
Oliver looked at Gerald, who shrugged. "Don't ask me. I'm not the one who played on their House team with them."  
  
"That'd be me," said Simon. He wrinkled his nose. "I had the mispleasure to be on the team with them in my fifth, sixth, and seventh years." He was immediately cooed and pitied over, because the Alister twins were horrid in their school years.  
  
They ate the rest of their breakfast discusing the game coming up.  
  
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Dear Hermione,  
  
Hope you're well. I'm currently on a Wizard train (they fly, unlike the Hogwarts trains) to Washington D.C. Apparently the Quidditch pitch is around there somewhere. I know I'm looking forward to seeing the famous Capitol Walkway (American version of Diagon Alley). They've got the best Quidditch shop ever there. It's called Goalposts and Brooms. It's the best store ever, and, hint hint, you could buy my Christmas present there.  
  
Mum stopped by my room the morning I got your letter. My mum's a bit of work, and you'll need at least a shot of something before I introduce you. By the by, I'm inclosing three tickets to the game here. If you, Harry, and Ron want to come, that'd be brilliant. Anyway, it's midnight our time, but it's six o'clock their time, and we're getting ready to land. I'll write soon. Also, this is my new owl, Xaiver, isn't he gorgeous?  
  
Cheers,  
  
Oliver  
  
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Oliver and the team stepped into the Millard Hotel, the only Wizard hotel in Washington D.C. Actually, it was just outside of Crystal City, a small business town that was next to the Pentagon.  
  
Oliver glanced at his teammates. They all walked up to the registration desk together.  
  
"Hello, welcome to the Millard Hotel, how may I help you?" said a blonde witch at the counter.  
  
Oliver smiled. He was so tired. "Hi. We're the English Quidditch team, we'd like to go to the rooms we reserved."  
  
"Your names?" asked the uber-polite receptionist.  
  
Oliver made a face at his friends. "Oliver Wood, Simon Hartfield, Eddie and Ian Alister, June Weatherby, and Katie Bell. Katie, June, Simon, and I all have our own rooms. Eddie and Ian would be under 'E.I. Alister,'" he said, as if reciting something.  
  
The blonde smiled, and typed away. "Ah. Here are you reservations," she said. "Here are your keys, Mr. Wood, Mr. Hartfield, Ms. Bell, and Ms. Weatherby." She handed them keys.  
  
"That's Mrs. Weatherby," said June. Everyone looked at her. "What? I'm married! You didn't know that? Right out of school, too."  
  
Oliver shrugged, went over to the elevator, and pressed the up button. As he went into the small box that would lift him to his room, he sighed. It was going to be a long two weeks.  
  
The elevator door opened, and he walked down the hallway to his room, number 273. He walked into his room after Alohamora'ing his door open.  
  
Oliver dumped his bags on one bed, and stripped down to his boxers. Unzipping one duffel bag, he pulled a pair of scarlet pajama bottoms out of them. He put the pants on and went to the window, opening the curtains.  
  
His breath caught in his throat. He had a clear view of the Washinton and Jefferson monuments. He had seen these buildings in books, since his mum had given him and his sister a Muggle education before Hogwarts, but he'd never seen them in person.  
  
Oliver took in the sights before him, awestruck. This was a wonderfully historic city. Now that he'd seen it, he was glad he'd come.  
  
Nevertheless, he was exausted. He went over to his bed, lifted the covers up, and crawled under them, yawning. Rolling over, he yawned one last time and went to sleep, aware that he had a busy--and long--day ahead of him.  
  
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A/N: Ok, so the "Millard Hotel" is really a cop-off on this really swanky hotel in D.C. called the Willard. According to my brother, the all-seeing, all-knowing-- scoffs Yeah, right!--it's really famous. Also, A, if you are reading my story, I AM EMAILING DAD! BECAUSE I DON'T WANT YOU TO READ IT BECAUSE YOU DON'T APPRECIATE IT!!!!!! All right, insanity over. Anyway, to my friend Jacquline, I hope you like it!!!!!  
  
Next chapter: the author shamelessly inserts herself into the fic. And has a speaking role opposite squee! Oliver Wood! 


	6. Touring DC

07/02/04  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Subway, Starbucks, or the D.C. Fire Department. And, even though I'd like to, I don't own 8th & I. The Marines do.  
  
A/N: Hey, everybody!!!!! How's it going? Well, in this chapter I will shamelessly insert myself into the story. The two people my character speak to are based on two people in my youth group. Anyway, if you don't live in D.C. (I don't but I go there every Sunday, and I know a lot of these things :D) this chapter may be a bit confusing. But if you know someone who's been or lived in D.C. it may be less confusing. Or you could just use a map. Either way works. On with the chapter!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
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Six  
  
Oliver woke with a start. Sitting on--and jiggling--the end of his bed were Ian and Eddie Alister. They had twin evil grins plastered on their faces.  
  
"C'mon Oliver," they said, bouncing harder, "get up! We've a big day ahead of us!"  
  
"Bullocks," said Oliver, rolling over. The twins thought he was going back to sleep. He was, in fact, grabbing his wand. When they started to jiggle again, he whipped around and said, "Pertrificus totallus!" And they fell off, in the full body-bind.  
  
Oliver got up, and stood over their prone bodies. "Eh, how d'you like me now?" He grinned at his witticism. "Finite-" he started, but stopped. He bent over the twins and smiled at them. "You two need to learn your lesson," he said. And went into his bathroom to take a shower.  
  
He came out to see June reading something to the still-bound twins, who were glaring hard at her.  
  
"....And so, the fluffie bunnies saved the enchanted forest again. The end," she said, snapping the book shut. She smiled mercilessly at them. "Now are you sorry for ruining my favorite silk dress four months ago?"  
  
The prone bodies nodded fiercely, and June cancled the spell. As they left the room, the twins blew raspberries at the Keeper and Chaser.  
  
Oliver looked at June. "You know, I've got to get dressed," he pointed out.  
  
"Oh, go ahead," said June, leaning back in her chair. "I don't mind."  
  
Oliver smiled, and flicked at towel at her. "Yes, but I and your husband do," he said. "Now scat."  
  
There was a pecking sound at the window. Oliver looked to see Xaiver on the windowsill, hooting at him. He let the owl in, and took the letter from him. "Ah," he murmured, sitting on his unmade bed. "It's from Hermione."  
  
Sunday, October 18th Dear Oliver,  
  
Wow. America. How exciting! Harry and Ron will not be able to make the game, so they send their regrets. I, however, will be able to, as my boss has given me the next month off! Don't forget that my party's the day after you get back, all right? you could try to get your costume there, as it would impress my England-bound friends. Miss you already, and yes, Xaiver is gorgeous. Mynos has a crush on him! See you soon (two days, in fact)!  
  
Yours,  
  
Hermione  
  
Oliver grinned, and put the letter inside his messenger bag that Olivia had got him a year ago for Christmas. He packed the few things he'd need for Muggle Washington, and went down to breakfast.  
  
He was shocked, upon going to the breakfast buffet, to find a lot of food! Muffins, bagels, waffles, danish, cereal, and toast!  
  
He glanced at the table where his teammates were. They were all eating giant things of waffles. So, he went to the waffle-maker and got some, too.  
  
He walked over to the table and pulled out the chair inbetween June and Katie. "So, waffles for everyone, eh?" he said, looking at their plates.  
  
June looked at him imperiously. "Yes. Here," she said, putting some strawberries and whipped cream on them, "try them now. They'll taste even better."  
  
Oliver eyed them suspiciously. Pulling his wand out, he muttered a curse and charm disarming spell. The food glowed light green, and then went back to it's original color.  
  
"Aw, shucks," said Eddie, snapping his fingers. "I thought we could get 'im."  
  
Oliver clicked his tongue. "Five years with the Weasley twins, and you learn not to eat anything without muttering the spell. Unless you're Harry," he said as an afterthought. "Or Hermione. They never dared trick Hermione. I believe that she told them that if they did, she'd curse them and report them to McGonagall."  
  
"Really?" said Katie, fascinated. "I didn't know that."  
  
Oliver nodded, feeling sagely wise. "Yup. Boy, they were scared of her. I mean, she can be as intimidating as Mrs. Wealsey when she wants to."  
  
Everyone knew Molly Weasley. And they shuddered, even imagining that she was mad at them was a scary thought.  
  
"So, what are we doing today?" Oliver asked June, who was the team's captain. He was co-Captain, but he hadn't gotten the time to memorize the itenerary on the ride over.  
  
June looked at a piece of paper. "American Smithsonian of Natural History," she said. She glanced at the team. "And the American History Smithsonian. They're supposed to be fascinating."  
  
"What're we going to see in the Natural History museum?" asked Simon, through a mouthful of waffle.  
  
"Don't talk with your mouth full," said June absently, consulting the paper. "We're going to look at the jewel exibit. It looks really cool."  
  
"And then?" said Simon, not listening to June about the talking-with-your- mouth-full-thing.  
  
"We're going to take a walk on Capitol Hill," said June. "And go up to a place called 'Eastern Market,' which is like a swap meet, basically. And walk over to this gothic-looking church, and down 8th to 8th & I to see the Marine Corps barracks." She looked up. "Did you know that 8th & I is the oldest American federal residence? In the war of 1812," she blushed, "we, the British that is, burned down the White House making the Commedant of the Marine Corps house the oldest residence in America."  
  
"As interesting as that is, June," said Oliver, glancing at his watch, "it's nine o'clock. let's get going."  
  
"Why?" asked June, consulting yet another pamphlet. "The smithsonian's don't open until ten."  
  
"Well," said Oliver philisaphically, "we should walk, and it'll take an hour to get there if we walk."  
  
"Why would we walk?" said Katie, horrified.  
  
The men looked at her in a shocked way. "Why not? It's just a wee strech of the legs," said Oliver, shocked by Katie's comment.  
  
Katie and June looked at one another. "Well," said June, sighing, "they do have a point."  
  
Katie shrugged. "Let's go then." And got up and headed towards the door, bag slung over her shoulder.  
  
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By the time they reached the Natural History museum, it was ten o'clock, and the smithsonians were open.  
  
They went into the museum and up to the second floor to see the jewels. They got a few glimpses of the Hope Diamond, as the revolving display it was in was almost concealed by people.  
  
"Oliver!" said Katie, pulling him over to show him a pair of diamond earrings. "These earrings belonged to Marie Antoinette!"  
  
"Yeah," scoffed Oliver, "and look what happened to her!"  
  
Katie frowned at him, and continued, "This one," she pointed to the one on the left, "is sixteen carats!" She smiled at his shocked face. "And the other one is eighteen."  
  
"Wow...." he said, trailing over to the diamond-encrusted crown that-- according to the information paper--used to have emeralds in place of where there was now jade. And to the diamond necklace with a giant emerald at the end of it.  
  
After a quarter hour, they went to the Mammal exhibit and looked at what they heard one lady call "stuffed animals."  
  
Then they were off to the American History smithsonian. They went through the president's exhibit, and Oliver read the Berlin Wall speech, which was originally done by the late President Reagan, the information thing said.  
  
They also saw--for the girls, of course; the guys weren't interested--the presidents' wives' gown. Simon began to look frazzled at the women chattering about it.  
  
They left the museum and crossed the Mall, going to the sidewalk lining Independace Ave. They walked for about two miles to the intersection of Independence and North Carolina Avenue's.  
  
They went to Eastern Market, and looked around. They saw a large group of teenagers standing beside a bread stand and went over.  
  
The team pushed Oliver to the front. "Excuse me," he said, to a girl with short reddish-brown hair, who'd been watching them, and holding a loaf of French bread.  
  
"Yes?" she said. She was, no doubt about it, American. Also, she was amused by his plight. "Are you lost or something?"  
  
Oliver frowned, and she covered up a laugh. "Hi, my name's Oliver, and my friends and I were wondering if you knew any good place to eat. Becuase we're tourists and all..." he trailed off, feeling horrible about asking a teenager in a forign country what to do.  
  
"Well, Oliver," she said, sticking her hand out, ignoring the other's whispered comments, "I'm Manion Nix. It's nice to meet you." She turned to glare at the girl behind her, who was making some unwanted comment. "Katie, shut up. If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."  
  
"Nion," said a girl with olive skin and auburn hair, "you really shouldn't be so mean to Katie. It's not that nice."  
  
"Oh, come on, El," said Manion to the girl next to her, "she's had it coming for five years now."  
  
"Even if she does, you shouldn't do it," the girl named El, glaring at Katie, who blushed. "And you shoudn't tell Nion what to do, Katie. She's right, you know. You have had it coming. Stop telling her what to do, or else."  
  
"Anyway," Manion turned back to Oliver, "if you want bread, there isn't a better place for it but at this lady's charming stand." She nodded towards the stand's owner. "But, there is a Subway down 8th if you want sandwiches. I can show you if you want."  
  
Oliver nodded, grateful. "Thanks."  
  
The girl turned back towards the group and told the one girl named 'El' that she was going to show the tourist the Subway, and she'd be back in a bit, and to tell her brother where she was. "Well," she said, coming over to Oliver, "follow me."  
  
She lead them over Pennslyvania Avenue, and past a Starbucks. Walking past a Blockbuster and a fire station, she stopped in front of a store called Subway. "Here we are," she said, motioning towards the store. "I reccomend the Italian Herb and Cheese. Also," she said, going over to Oliver, "if you want to remain incognito, I also reccomend you put your wands in your bag, not in your pockets. People in America don't often go about with sticks in their pockets." She waved, went down the street, and dissapeared into the Starbucks.  
  
Oliver blinked, discretely pulled his wand out and stuffed it into his messenger bag. "Well," he said. "That was weird."  
  
"How did she-" said June, they were watching the Starbucks, and saw her come out with a frappichino in her hand, turn, wave, and head back up 8th. "Never mind. I don't want to know." She opened the door to Subway. "Shall we?"  
  
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As they walked back up 8th, they turned onto North Carolina and passed a church. Many of the teenagers who were at the bread stand were sitting on the steps. Manion, Oliver noticed, was reading off to the side, ignoring glances that people flicked her way.  
  
They went in through the gates and up to her, Oliver sitting next to her.  
  
"Hey," she said, closing the green paperback. She put it into a large brown messenger bag that sat on her other side. "Subway work out all right?"  
  
Oliver grinned. "Yeah, thanks." He looked over at everyone else in her group. "How come you aren't hanging out with them?" he asked, puzzled.  
  
She sighed. "Well, I never really got along with most of them, and now that I helped some British and Scottish strangers out, it just makes me weirder." She looked at the others. "What're you looking at?" she said rudely. The turned back to their conversations.  
  
"So, what's that you're drinking?" he asked.  
  
Manion glanced at the cup. "It's a mocha frappichino. They're great. If you get the chance, get one. Oh," she leaned closer, lowering her voice, "be sure to be careful about your wands, all right? Americans are different. We ask questions." She grinned. "Well, you'd better get going. Have a nice visit. Hope you win your game!" Then she got up, flicked the head of a girl with olive skin, and ran inside, away from her friend, who wanted to flick her back.  
  
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After more sight-seeing, the team went back to the hotel for dinner. Oliver went up to his room, lay on his bed and sighed. He was tired.  
  
He stripped down, put on his pajama pants, and crawled under the covers and went to sleep.  
  
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A/N: No, mocha frappichino's are the BEST!!!!!!!!! Especially in the summer, and it's hot, and you want coffee, but not something hot, and BOOM there's the frap, waiting for you! ::looks at readers, who think she is crazy:: ::is ashamed at her coffee crazed behaviour:: Sorry. I just like them a lot. I had to redo some of it, because my friend, who's screen name is Alicia Rose-Wilde, wanted a bigger part. A speaking role. WELL YOU GOT IT, SO STOP COMPLAINING!!!!!!! How selfish is that? The other girl, Katie, is another girl who I know from my youth group. I'm not to fond of her, obviously. So, what did you think of this chapter? Was it any good? I hope so. Please review!!!!!!!!!!! 


	7. Finally! And A Bet

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Ok, I feel like I owe you guys something—which I do—so I'm going to post this chapter before I write the next one. I hope you enjoy it, and please review!!!!!!!!!

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Seven

Two days later, Oliver woke to hear the Alister twins try--and fail, due to his new booby-trapped door, specially made just for them--to come into his room and wake him up. He smiled, yawned, and rose.

Stretching, he went over to the window, and opened the curtains to let the sun shine in. He bent to touch his toes when there was a knock on the door.

He glanced through the peephole before opening the door. His face split into a grin as he opened the door to reveal Hermione Granger, standing there with bags in hand.

"Hello there," she said. All of a sudden, she blushed, and looked off behind him.

He glanced down, and realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. Quickly, he strode over to the dresser and pulled out a shirt that read: 'Feminist Chicks Dig Me.'

Hermione's face lit in amusement when she read his shirt. "Really?" she said, putting her bags on the ground next to the spare bed. "How interesting."

He laughed. "Not really," he assured her. "Leo, being Muggleborn, and having a wicked sense of humor, bought this for me two or three years ago when he was over here for business."

"What does Leo do, anyway?" Hermione asked, rooting through what could only be her carry-on. "Aha," she muttered, and pulled a green glass bottle out.

"What's that? Oh, Leo's an author," said Oliver, highly amused by something. "He writes Muggle fantasy about an alternate world where there are people with magic who live in London and that sort of rot."

"I think that sounds really good," said Hermione. "I rather like fantasy."

"I'm sure you do," he said, patting her shoulder. "I'm sure you do."

Hermione glared at him in mock anger. "I do!" And she stuck her tongue out at him.

He laughed, and picked up his duffel bag full of clothes. "I'll get dressed, and then we'll go down for breakfast, ok?" He closed the door of the bathroom behind him. "By the way," he called to her, voice muffled by the wall, "how did you get here?"

Hermione grinned, and took a drink from her bottle. "I flew."

Oliver poked his head out of the door. "I didn't know you used broomsticks," he remarked, doing up the zipper on his pants.

Hermione laughed. "No, silly, I flew as in on an airplane. I love planes, and with the Galleon-pound exchange being as it is now, I had enough for a first-class seat, which was heavenly." She sighed, remembering the flight. "I finally had room enough to stretch my legs out," she said, smiling. "And coach seats are awfully close together."

"Oh," said Oliver, hopping out of the bathroom, still fighting the stuck zipper. "Who'd you fly with?"

"As in a person or the airline?" asked Hermione, walking over to him. "Stand still." And she unstuck the zipper.

"Person. Thanks." Oliver zipped the zipper up the rest of the way.

"Oh, Harry and Ron came with me," said Hermione, nonchalantly.

Oliver frowned. "They came? But I thought-"

Hermione nodded, cutting him off. "Yeah, Harry had a meeting with the American Head of Sport and Games, and Ron is on assignment."

"Ah," said Oliver, face clearing. "That's right then. Shall we get some breaky, then?"

"Sure," said Hermione, grabbing her purse. "Let's go."

They left Oliver's room and went downstairs. Going to the buffet, Oliver advised Hermione to only get the waffles. She listened, and was extremely happy for it. Oliver led Hermione over to the table where the team sat.

"Hey, Hermione," chorused the twins.

She looked at them with her you-must-obey-me look. "Excuse me?" she said simply.

At once, Ian grabbed an extra chair from another table. Eddie placed it next to Oliver and pulled it out for her. She sat, and he pushed her back in.

"Now, you two aren't as talented as the Weasley twins," she remarked. "That would've only bought me a grin from one of them, and a piece of enchanted taffy from another. Clearly I'm used to the best." This chastised the twins, and they bashfully sat back in their chairs, eating quietly while the rest of the team stared at Hermione. She glanced at them and shrugged.

"How did you learn to manage them like that?" breathed Simon, absolutely shocked.

Hermione grinned. "Well, when you're used to getting Gred and Forge to do what you want, these guys," she jerked her thumb at the twins, "are a piece of cake."

"Really?" said Oliver. "I don't really see a difference."

Hermione grinned. "When you've spent five summers and some other holidays with them, you know all their tricks."

"Wow," said Katie, amazed. "I'm engaged to George, and even I wouldn't want to spend all that time with both of them."

"Well, of course not," said Hermione, eating her waffles, "you'd want to spend all your time with George. But I don't recommend that. Fred gets jealous, and then George ends up siding with him."

"Thanks," said Katie, not knowing that particular piece of information.

"No problem," said Hermione. "What are we doing today?"

"Capitol Walkway," said June and Oliver at the same time. Oliver grinned sheepishly. "I memorized the itinerary last night," he said, scratching his head, embarrassed.

Hermione patted his shoulder. "That's ok." she said, smiling. "I do that all the time. You wouldn't believe the inside of my head." She winked at the girls, who laughed.

Oliver saw this, and grinned evilly. "Well, we're walking to it," he said, smugly.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. "Really? I'm taking the bus with Katie and June. Have fun!" She winked at him as she, Katie, and June went outside and got on the bus that took people directly from the hotel to the Capitol Walkway.

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The guys arrived at the Walkway hot and sweaty, even though it was a crisp autumn day. They spotted the girls sitting on a bench sipping hot apple cider.

"Tired?" asked Hermione smugly. She took a sip of the cider and smiled. "This is really good cider. You guys should get some."

Oliver gave her an annoyed look. "Ha, ha, ha." He dropped into the seat next to her and grabbed her cider, taking a long drink. "You're right, this is good cider."

Hermione glared at him and took her cider back. "If you want some, buy it yourself."

"Fine," he said, arching his eyebrows superiorly, "I will." He went over to the cider stand. "Ah, one large cider," he said, pulling out his money pouch.

"That'll be one Sickle and fifteen Knuts," said the stand's clerk.

"One Sickle and fifteen Knuts?" Oliver said, amazed.

The clerk nodded. "Yeah, 'cause when ya buy a large, ya get a free cookie. What kinda cookie do ya want?"

Oliver peered at the cookies. "A snickerdoodle, please," he said, handing over two Sickles.

"Here's yer cookie, and your two Knuts. Thank ya, and have a nice day," the clerk said, handing Oliver his change.

Oliver went back to the bench and sat back down next to Hermione. "Mmm," he said, taking a sip of the cider. "It's better the next time."

"Yeah, whatever," said Hermione, breaking off a sizeable chunk of his cookie.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Oliver protested, pulling his cookie out of her reach.

"You drank my cider, I'm eating your cookie," she said, breaking off another piece of the cookie. "Yum, it's delicious."

Oliver glared at her, and took a large bite of his cookie, licking the rest. "There," he said triumphantly. "You want it now?"

Hermione smirked. "I'll still eat it." And to prove what she said, she took a bite of the licked cookie. "Yum."

Oliver sighed, and handed her the cookie. It wasn't worth the energy to argue.

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After the guys had all had their cider, and Hermione finished Oliver's cookie (though, she did let him have another bite) they got up and walked through the Walkway.

As they came up on a store, Oliver poked Hermione.

"Look," he said. "It's Goalposts and Brooms. We're all going in." She followed him into the store, rolling her eyes.

He went over to the broomsticks, and she stood beside him as he told her which one he wanted. She smiled, and picked up the Firebolt 3000, balancing it in her hand. She dug in her purse, and pulled a cell phone out. Flipping it open, she dialed a number.

"Hey, Harry," she said, stilling holding the broom out of Oliver's reach. "Listen, could you tell me which broom is the best?" She paused, and a few "Mmhmms," came out. "Ok, Har, thanks. Love you too, bye," she said, flipping the phone closed. She put the broom back. "It's junk," she said, sniffing at the broom. "Don't buy it. I'll buy you the best, don't worry."

Oliver looked at her curiously. "But the Firebolt 3000 is the best money can buy," he protested.

Hermione grinned. "Yeah, but I've got a bit more information," she said, walking over to the counter. "Excuse me," she said politely to the clerk.

The clerk's eyes popped open. "Hermione Granger? What can I do for you, ma'am?"

Hermione smiled. "I'd like to place an order for a Silver Streak, please," she said, pulling her checkbook out, pen ready.

The clerk's eyes widened more. "But-but those aren't even on the market yet!"

"Ah, but I know someone in a high place. The order form?"

"Oh, right," said the clerk. He pulled a form out from under the counter. Hermione filled it out, and wrote a check, which Oliver had a chance to peek at.

"Three hundred Galleons!" he said to Hermione, shocked.

Hermione grinned, and patted his shoulder. "Well, you're a friend. I'm buying one for Ron, too."

"Hermione, this is too much," he said, as the walked out, to wait for the others. He spluttered a bit, put an arm around her waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her.

For a second Hermione was frozen. But she thawed, and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers dug into his hair.

They kissed until they heard a coughing sound to their right. Separating, they saw the team standing to their right, amused. Hermione fixed her sweater, and smoothed her hair. Oliver fixed his jacket and hair, also.

"You," Gerald said to the rest of the team, "owe me twenty Galleons. Each. Told you they'd get together at less than a week after the party at The Grand Merlin."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Simon, pulling out his money pouch. "And even I couldn't break them up at that party."

June shoved him. "You just wanted to win your bet," she said, pulling her money out. "And unfairly, too."

"Wait a second," Hermione and Oliver said simultaneously. "You bet on us?"

"Yeah, of course," said Eddie, handing over his money to Gerald. "We also bet on when Ian would propose to Eileen, his now-fiancée, and I won."

"That wasn't a fair bet," said Katie. "You're his twin."

"Yeah, well no one believed me when I said two years," Eddie said. "Ian romances very slowly. The only person I know who's slower than him is Oliver."

"What do you mean?" Oliver demanded, glaring at Eddie.

Eddie rolled his eyes, exasperated. "It was clear that you liked Hermione. When you first met up with her, all you could do was babble on and on about her. It got to be so annoying, we started the bet."

"What exactly did you bet?" Hermione asked.

"When you'd first realize you liked each other, and snog the hell out of each other," said Gerald. He waved a hand at them. "You could continue, you know."

"Go. Away," said Oliver, glaring at his teammates. "I won't snog with a audience."

His teammates left, grumbling. Oliver turned to Hermione, gathered her up in his arms, and smiled. "Well," he said, "where were we?"

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A/N: All right, what did you think? I am going to be slaughtered with tomatoes or what? I'm really sorry for the delay, but my computer got a virus, and I had to rewrite almost everything. I don't think I'm going to continue much past this chapter, but I think I'll write an epilogue. So, look out for it sometime in the next month, and in the mean time you could go read Tutoring A Dragon again and then Growing Up. Anyway, I don't know if I'll continue Meetings and Letters past writing an epilogue, but I'm going to have to see if I've got the inspiration for it. I don't think I do, but thanks to everybody who has (and will) review[ed]!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	8. Epilogue

09/02/04

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything that has a copyright in this fic.

A/N: So, this is the last chapter of Meetings and Letters! ::cries:: I actually wrote this at, like, eight thiry/nine o'clock. I'm totally tired. Anyway, I really hope you like it! Please review!!!

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Eight

Epilogue

Hermione stood in the kitchen of her house in Notting Hill, making some brownies for the Halloween party.

The front door banged open, and someone trudged in, obviously not caring if they made a racket. Hermione grabbed her wand, and went slowly to the kitchen door. Opening it, she saw a half-asleep Oliver Wood leaning against her door.

Oliver grinned charmingly. "Hello there," he said, Scottish brogue enhanced by his tiredness.

Hermione smiled. "You should be asleep," she reminded him.

"I'll nap in your room later," he said, yawning. She started to open her mouth. "Not with you! By myself, thanks. You kick when you nap. It's annoying." Hermione glared at him. He smiled carelessly and tickled her.

She laughed, and turned up the stereo.

Everybody in this place can up and move away For all I care, this town's already dead and empty 

_I'm told that I'm a victim of obsession _

_That's what my friends say _

_Oh, I'm a fool for having ever let her tempt me_

I turn pale when she walks by 

_I am lost in her eyes _

_She is always on my mind _

_She is always on my mind _

_She glances over but she keeps walking down that street _

_All I do is hope that she is thinking of me _

_If I could blink, if I could breathe, if I could get my legs to move_

_Well, this could be the day I get this girl to love me _

_I turn pale when she walks by _

_I am lost in her eyes _

_She is always on my mind _

_She is always on my mind _

_She had turned from a sound _

_Well, I must have cried out loud _

_She is always on my mind _

_She is always on my mind _

_If I could blink, if I could breathe, if I could get my legs to move_

_Well, this could be the day I get this girl to love me _

_I turn pale when she walks by _

_I am lost in her eyes _

_She is always on my mind _

_She is always on my mind _

_She had turned from a sound _

_Well, I must have cried out loud _

_She is always on my mind _

_She is always on my mind _

_She is always on my mind _

_She is always on my mind_

Around the second verse, Oliver had grabbed Hermione, and they started to dance; him in his Quidditch robes covered in grass stains, her in a floury apron, t-shirt, and jeans.

Oliver sang along into Hermione's ear. "She is always on my mind, she is always on my mind," he whispered to her, smiling and kissing her ear. He pulled back and grinned at her rather pink face. "It's true, you know. The team got a two-day break because, and I quote, 'That ruddy Keeper can't get his mind off his bloody girlfriend,' end quote."

"You should really try to focus more, Ol," Hermione said sternly, as Oliver dipped her. However, it is very difficult to be serious while your boyfriend is dipping you to a Phantom Planet song. "I mean, this is your dream and everything."

"Eh," he said, pulling her up, "it's not as much fun as you are." Hermione blushed, and he grinned wider. He pulled her closer and kissed her softly, then harder.

They had made their way over to the counter, where Oliver was kissing Hermione most profusely, when the doorbell rang.

"Shit," Hermione said. Oliver was both amused and minorly shocked. Hermione almost never swore. She grinned at Oliver. "Just when it was getting good, too."

Oliver looked huffy. "I must protest," he said snootily, "it's _always_ good."

"Yeah. Right." Hermione left the kitchen and Oliver drifted behind her, yawning a bit. She opened the door to reveal someone she hadn't seen in ages. "Excuse me, who's this?" she asked a stack of boxes and the lower half a person.

"Oof. Hermione, it's me, Fred. I've come with the decorations, and if you don't move I'm going to drop them!" said Fred Weasley's disembodied voice from behind the boxes. Hermione quickly moved aside, and Fred went through to the living room, followed by three more sets of floating boxes with half-humans bellow them.

"Hey Hermione," George's voice said, following Fred.

"Hey," came Bill's voice, as he followed the twins.

"Umph...Hi 'Mione," Charlie said, pushing something into the living room.

"Hi boys," Hermione said, following them into the living room.

Oliver looked at them indignantly. "What am I? Chopped liver?" he asked, voice booming.

Fred and George jumped. "Wha-what?" they turned to see Oliver. "Oliver!" they exclaimed, hopping over a box or two, to hug their old Captain. "How are you?" Fred asked.

"What's the national team like?" George asked.

Oliver grinned at Hermione. "This is more like it," he said, voice back to normal. "I'm good, thanks for asking, though I am a bit tired. And the national team is just like Puddlemere or Hogwarts—lots of work, and an annoying pair of twins who are just awful."

"Really?" George said.

"Yes," Hermione said. "Eddie and Ian are simply awful. I don't know how Oliver does it."

"You've met them?" Fred asked her.

"Yeah, I've met the entire team," Hermione said, grinning. "When you're dating the Co-Captain, it's hard not to."

"Wait a sec," Charlie cut in. "You're dating Oliver? That's rich."

"No, no, it's true," Oliver said, putting an arm around Hermione's waist. "We've been going out for—what?—two weeks? Three? I don't know."

"Two weeks?" Bill asked, pulling out a streamer that spat out random criticism and tacking it on the wall. "Wow. That's really long, when are you two long-timers getting hitched?" He grinned. "You'd better not tell Mum, she's got Ginny almost married off, she'll be looking for a new project soon."

Hermione laughed. "No, Mrs. Weasley's very happy for us and promised to stay out of it. It's Ol's mum I'm worried about."

"Ooh, yeah," Charlie said, remembering something from when Oliver joined the Gryffindor team when he was Captain. "When Oliver got taken out by that Bludger, Mrs. Wood sent me three Howlers and visited me to yell at me in person. Not fun."

"Sorry, mate," Oliver said, laughing. "Mum's a bit protective."

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Hermione left the Weasley's to put up the decorations, and pulled Oliver upstairs.

Thrusting him into her room, she took his jacket off, and made him get in her bed.

"Sleep," she ordered. "I won't have you falling asleep at my party. In the punch bowl or anywhere else. So _sleep_!" She arched her eyebrows at him sternly, and he meekly rolled over and went to sleep.

Hermione's room was actually very nice. It was painted a pale shade of orange, and she had paintings of red flowers hung all over. Her cousin, who had moved to America to get a job, since she was five years older than Hermione, had painted them and sent them to Hermione, who had had them mounted and framed. A large five feet tall window was in the middle of the wall, and it looked out onto the street. Currently, the scarlet curtains Hermione had were covering it. Her room was the biggest, being the Master Bedroom. She actually had no idea how she had convinced Harry and Ron that since she was the girl, she should get the Master bedroom, but she did. Maybe it was because they were afraid of the feminine products being "accidentally" left out on the counter.

Her bathroom had a large bathtub, which was also the shower. It was all white, except for the towels, which were purple. And some scented jasmine candles, which were light green.

Her room also featured two bookcases, and a dresser and a nightstand. She had a lamp on her nightstand, but the ceiling light lighted mainly the room. Her bed was a queen size, and had a red comforter with orange flowers on it. The pillows had matching cases. Oliver was currently curled up under this comforter, in his red uniform with blue trim and lettering.

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Hermione went back downstairs and into the kitchen to shoo the twins away from the brownie batter, which she put into a baking pan, and placed the pan into the oven.

She then pulled a gigantic punch bowl out of her enchanted cupboard, and placed it on the island, next to the fifteen liters of cranberry juice, and the twenty liters of ginger ale. She poured each liter in, and then stirred the whole thing, before enchanting it to stay cold, no matter what.

She sighed. She'd made all the party food she was going to. Harry and Ron were going to make some other things, and Ginny was bringing some from Molly when she came, which, according to Hermione's watch, would be in an hour and a half. Hermione gave a small "eep!" and ran out of the kitchen, giving quick instructions to Bill to place the brownies somewhere where the twins couldn't get them.

She ran up the steps and into her bedroom, and tiptoed quietly to the bathroom to take a relaxing bath before she got ready. Before completely undressing and climbing into the tub, she wrote a note to Oliver and taped it to his forehead.

_Dear Oliver, _she wrote.

_When you get this, I will most likely still be in the tub. Please DO NOT GO IN THE BATHROOM!!! IF YOU DO, YOU ARE IN SERIOUS TROUBLE!!!! When you wake up, just floo or Apparate home so you can change for the party. You may come back after that, and chat with the Weasley's all of whom (except for Molly and Arthur) will be here tonight. Also, I need you here to greet your family, as they scare me. I'm looking forward to seeing what your costume is! _

_Love, _

_Hermione _

Hermione quickly left him alone, and went to take her bath.

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Oliver woke up an hour after Hermione had taped the note to his forehead. He yawned, read the note, and promptly Apperated home to change.

He opened his closet door, trying not to trip as his cat, Lady, wound between his legs.

Pulling his costume out of the closet, he patted Lady, picked her up with his free hand, and set her on the bed. She purred, and bumped her head on his thigh.

"Not now, Lady," he said, stripping down. He went into the bathroom and turned the water in the shower on.

Five minutes—and one clean Oliver later—he came out and put on some boxers and pulled on the pants for his costume. He grinned, and put on the undershirt and robes.

Walking over to his full-length mirror, he checked his costume. Judging it acceptable, he went over to the fireplace, and tossed some floo powder in it. "Hermione Granger's bedroom!"

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Hermione had gotten out of the bath about half an hour before Oliver had woken up. She was currently putting the finishing touches on her costume, which was an eighteenth-century duchess. Her long, emerald gown had a full skirt, complete with hoop petticoat and corset.

"Damn corset," she muttered, trying to breathe.

The square neckline dipped down low, but not to low, and it was trimmed with gold lace. Her hair, tamed with a charm, not to mention some shampoo, was put into a bun that dripped loose curls all down her back. She looked at her reflection and smiled, satisfied.

There was a loud popping noise, and Hermione turned to see Oliver dusting himself off, fully costumed.

"That's an...interesting costume, Oliver," Hermione said, trying not to laugh.

"I knew you'd like it," he replied. "So. Am I sexier than Obi Wan?"

"Oh, yeah," Hermione said, walking over to him, and straightening his Jedi robes. "By a long shot, for sure."

"Well, then," Oliver said, kissing her lightly, "let's go party."

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They walked down the stairs, holding hands, when Ron grabbed Hermione's hand, dragging her over to the front door. Consequently, Oliver was dragged, too.

"They're here," Ron hissed, pointing.

"Who, Ron?" Hermione asked him.

"Oliver's parents. And his sister," Ron said. "Now, my lookout position is finished. I've got to pry the Siamese bride and groom, who are attached at the mouth, apart." He nodded to Oliver, mouth twitching at his costume choice.

Ron had come as a stable groom, and his girlfriend, Padma Patil, was a milkmaid.

Harry, ironically, came as a Death Eater, and Ginny came as a Muggle captive. Hermione saw Ron march over to them where they were sitting in a corner, and whack Harry upside the back of his head.

Laughing, she and Oliver went over to greet his family.

"Mum, Dad," he said, smiling, holding Hermione's hand, "this is Hermione Granger, my girlfriend. Hermione, these are my parents, Nancy and Nigel Wood."

Hermione smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Wood. Oliver's told me about you." She held out her hand, and Nigel shook it, smiling.

"It's very nice to meet you, Hermione," Nigel said, very friendly. Nigel Wood was a very laid-back man. He had to be, to deal with his wife. "Isn't it, Nancy?" He elbowed his wife, and she jumped slightly.

"Yes," she said, smiling at her son's girlfriend. "It's very lovely to meet you, Hermione."

"Good job," murmured Nigel, giving his wife a gummi bear.

Hermione turned to Oliver, a questioning look in her eyes. "I'll tell you later," he said in a low tone. "Mum, Dad, have fun. Olivia! Leo! How are you? How's the baby?"

Leo was busy trying not to laugh at his brother-in-law's costume. "Interesting choice of," laughter, "outfit, Oliver," he said, not managing to hold in the laughter.

"Speak for yourself," Oliver replied, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Leo and Olivia had come as Romeo and Juliet, tights and all. Leo glared at Oliver. Oliver just laughed, leading Hermione away to chat with some other people.

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"Phew," Hermione said, plopping down on a couch. It was 1 A.M. and the guests had FINALLY left. "That was...fun." She looked at Harry and Ginny, who were at it again. She hit Harry's bicep. "What do you think, Mr. Death Eater, sir?"

"Huh? Death Eater? Where?" Harry asked, brandishing his wand. He glared at Hermione, who grinned innocently. "Ha, ha, ha, ha, Mione. Very funny. I'm laughing _so hard_!"

Ginny, who had thought it was funny, recovered from her giggles, kissed Harry's cheek, and got up. "I've got to go, love. Mum'll be worried."

"See you tomorrow," Harry called.

"No you won't," she said. "The groom isn't allowed to see the bride for twenty-four hours before the wedding. I'm off-limits for tomorrow, and the morning after. See you at the alter, lover boy!" She waved cheekily, and flooed home.

"Good choice," Hermione said, patting Harry's shoulder. She yawned, and went up the stairs to her room.

Oliver had gone home an hour before, claiming "the need to sleep for at least thirty hours." He would, however, be at the wedding. He'd gotten clearance from the coach, after getting Harry to allow the coach—who was a relative of the Weasley's—to buy Silver Streak's earlier than the rest of the international league.

Hermione yawned again, taking her gown off and hanging it up in the closet before she put on her "I Love Oliver Wood" pajamas, which Oliver had gotten her as a joke right after they met.

She climbed into her bed and went to sleep.

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The next morning, Hermione rose leisurely, taking a long, lazy shower before eating breakfast. She washed her hair with her favorite shampoo, which smelled like tangerines. Drying off, she got dressed. She picked out a pair of low-rider jeans and an amber sweater.

She went downstairs, grabbed some cereal, and slung her purse over her shoulder.

"I'm going to the Burrow!" she yelled up the stairs. "If Oliver calls or floo's, just hang out for a bit, ok?" There was a muffled response. "I'm going to drive over, see you all tomorrow at the church!" She picked up her car keys from the dish on the foyer table, and left.

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She arrived at the Burrow about forty-five minutes later. She grinned as she got out of the car, as Molly was shooing all the male Weasley's out of the house.

Hermione walked by the dejected bunch. "Hey, why don't you six go over to my house and hang for the day?" she told Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, who had been forgiven, Fred, and George. "Harry and Ron are there, so don't worry. But don't go into my room: Fred and George." She eyed the twins suspiciously.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Bill said cheerfully, clapping his arms around his younger brother's shoulders. "I'll keep them in line." The twins gulped, eying each other nervously.

"Thanks, Bill." Hermione walked past the group, and went inside the house to be met by a flying vase. "_Immobuilus!_" she cried, flicking her wand at the crystal vessel. "What the-?" she said, walking through the doorway. "Gin? What's the matter?"

Ginny stood in tears. "I-I-I," she became incoherent. "I DON'T KNOW IF I'M READY FOR THIS!"

Hermione plastered a big smile on her face. "Shit," she muttered. Louder, "Ginny, you love Harry. He loves you. This is _going_ to work!"

"Really?" Ginny sniffed.

"Really. Now, get your dress. We've got some last-minute touches to put on it," Hermione said firmly.

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They finished touching up the dress. The dress was strapless, with a full-length skirt that had lace with a rose design on it. It was pure white, and Ginny looked like an angel.

Molly Weasley teared up when she saw her only daughter in her wedding dress. She ran over and crushed both Hermione and Ginny in a bear hug.

"Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione, voice muffled by Mrs. Weasley's sweater. "You're crushing me. Us!" she added, when Ginny poked her.

Mrs. Weasley let go and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "This is the second-third-fourth—no, wait—tenth happiest moment in my life." She sniffed. "I've got to go check on my roast."

Hermione looked at Ginny and started giggling. They started laughing, and before long, they were on the couch, clutching their stomachs with the laughter.

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Around five o'clock Lavender Brown, Luna Lovegood, Marcia Vane, Yeony Kath (whose parent's meant to name Peony, but misspelled it), and the Patil twins showed up for the bachelorette party.

They played games until two in the morning, and Parvati dared Ginny to French Harry when the minister said, "You may kiss the bride." Ginny accepted, looking smug.

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The next day Hermione woke up with Ginny shaking her, yelling, "I CAN'T FIND MY VEIL! I CAN'T FIND MY VEIL!"

Hermione sighed, and calmly located the veil draped over a clock in Bill's room.

Ginny looked fascinated. "I have no idea how it got there," she said, puzzled.

Hermione grinned, and fixed it on her head. "I, for one, don't want to know."

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How they made their way to the church, Hermione never figured out. But, they made it; Ginny got dressed in her wedding dress, Hermione in her lilac Maid-of-Honor dress, and Molly in her jade Mother of the Bride dress.

As Hermione walked down the aisle escorted by Ron, she saw Oliver watching her, grinning, and fumbling with something in his pocket. She smiled at him, and took her place by Ginny, holding the clutch that had Harry's ring in it nervously.

The minister cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to unite these two people in the blessed union of marriage. If anyone protests, speak now or forever hold your tongue." He paused, looked around the room, and continued. "Now, do you, Harry James Potter, take this woman for your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in richer and in poorer, through sickness and through health, for as long as you both shall live, till death do you part?"

"I do," said Harry, as Ginny slid his ring on.

"Do you, Virginia Anne Weasley take this man for your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in richer and in poorer, through sickness and through health, for as long as you both shall live, till death do you part?"

"I do," Ginny said, beaming, as Harry slid her ring on.

"Well, then, by the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic and the Church of England, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Harry leaned over to kiss Ginny, and Hermione saw his eyes pop open with surprise. She suppressed a giggle. The organ started to play, and Harry led Ginny down the aisle, beaming as he looked at his wife.

Hermione stood watching them, until Oliver came over, took her hand, and led her to the reception.

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They were out on the dance floor and the song ended. Oliver got a huge grin on his face. "Wait here," he told Hermione. He went over to the DJ and told him something. The DJ grinned, and looked through the songs that were available. He nodded at Oliver, who grinned and made his way back over to Hermione. "Wait for it," he said.

The music began to play.

_L is for the way you look at me,  
O is for the only one I see.  
V is very, very extraordinary,  
E is even more than anyone that you adore can...  
  
Love is all that I can give to you,  
Love is more than just a game for two.  
Two in love can make it,  
Take my heart and please don't break it,  
Love was made for me and you.   
  
L is for the way you look at me,  
O is for the only one I see.  
V is very, very extra-ordinary,  
E is even more than anyone that you adore can...  
  
And love is all that I can give to you,  
Love is more than just a game for two.  
Two in love can make it,  
Take my heart and please don't break it,  
  
Love was made for me and you...  
Love was made for me and you...  
Love was made for me and you! _

Oliver danced her around the floor, waltzing, and twirling. At the end of the song, he managed to twirl Hermione out of the hall into a side garden. She sat down on the only bench in there, smiling at him.

He knelt in front of her, and fiddled with something in his pocket.

"Now, Hermione," he said, "I know we haven't been dating long, but we've been friends for a while, and I felt something for you before then. I'm not sure if I should ask you this, but I'm going to anyway." He pulled out a small black velvet box and snapped it open. It contained a platinum band with a four-carat square-cut diamond. He took it out, and held it in between his thumb and forefinger. "Will you, Hermione Granger, marry me?"

Hermione looked at him, mouth slightly agape. She let out her breath, slowly taking another one in. "I- I- Yes!" she exclaimed, jumping into Oliver's arms. He kissed her, a slow, long kiss. He pulled back, and took her left hand, and slipped the ring on her third finger. It fit perfectly. "How did you?" she asked.

"I enchanted it so it'd fit you no matter what," he replied, grinning at her. "Now, c'mon, let's go crazy, baby."

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Three Months Later

Hermione was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace in her living room. Ginny was sitting on a couch, watching her and trying not to laugh.

"I believe, Hermione, dear," Ginny said, sipping her iced tea. "That you told me this before _my_ wedding. And I quote: 'You love Oliver. He loves you. This is _going_ to work!' And I unquote." She looked at Hermione, amused. "Anyway, if you don't marry him, I'll beat you to death with my English team season tickets."

"Season tickets?" Hermione asked, eyebrows arched.

"Permanent season tickets," Ginny said smugly. "Courtesy of Oliver."

"Of course," Hermione murmured, grinning. "He's so nice." An evil grin formed on her face. "So, did he give you his wedding shower present?"

Ginny's face contorted. "Yes," she mumbled, glaring into the distance. "In front of MUM!"

"Oh, Lord," Hermione said, laughing.

"And thanks, by the way, for the BASSINET!" Ginny yelled. "MUM'S GOT IDEAS NOW!"

"What's the commotion?" Harry said amiably, sauntering in with Oliver behind him. They were in Quidditch robes. It had been take-a-Ministry-person-to-practice-day. Oliver had claimed Harry before anyone else, for which Harry was grateful. Ian Alister had claimed Percy Weasley, the assistant to the Minister of Magic, Mark Jensen.

"Nothing," Hermione said over Ginny's answer.

"You'll never guess, love," Oliver said, "what Ian did to poor Percy."

Hermione kissed his cheek. "No, what?" she asked, grinning.

"Well," Oliver mused, "do you want me to start with the before warm-ups or after?"

Hermione stared at him, mouth agape, horrified. "Poor Percy!" she breathed. "Ian must've killed him!"

"Almost," Oliver agreed. His eyes unfocused for a moment, remembering something. "It was bloody funny, but the team was sworn to secrecy because of Perce's ego."

Hermione smothered a giggle. "That I can believe," she said, mouth twitching. "I don't want to know, anyway." Oliver sat down next to her and she snuggled up against him. "So, how do you feel?"

"Awful," Oliver said. "I could use a hot drink." He looked pointedly at Ginny.

"Hey!" she said, frowning. "I'm Harry's slave now, ask your fiancée!"

Oliver turned to Hermione, who raised her eyebrows at him. "Get your own," she said. "Or at least say please."

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaseeeeee," he pleaded, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes.

Hermione's heart melted. "Aw, Oliver," she said, getting up, "what do you want?"

"Hmm... how about some tea? Raspberry, with five spoons of sugar?" Oliver asked.

"Ok," Hermione said, hurrying off to the kitchen.

Harry grinned at Oliver. "She's got it bad for you, mate," he said, draping an arm over Ginny's shoulders, "she wouldn't get a drink for just anyone. Particularly Ron and me."

Oliver grinned as Hermione came back with his drink. As she handed him the mug, he pulled her down next to him, and into his arms.

"I love you," he murmured into her ear. She smiled up at him and told him she loved him, too.

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The Wedding Day

Hermione stood in a dressing room across from the hall where everyone was sitting, looking at herself in the mirror.

Her dress was tight until the waist where it tapered into a full skirt. It was plain white satin with an ivy pattern embroidered near the bottom seam. It was strapless, but wasn't too tight.

Her hair had been transformed into manageable curls that were pinned securely to her head, with many dripping down her back. Her veil was covering her face with one thin sheet of gauze. Around the edges of the veil was the same pattern that was embroidered on her dress.

The door opened, and she turned to see Ginny smiling at her. "It's time," she said.

Hermione walked to the door, careful to pick up her skirts so as to not step on them. Walking through the held-open door, she waited by the main doors as her bridesmaids, Lavender and Parvati, headed through them and down the aisle. Ginny, her matron-of-honor, smiled widely and exited the same way.

Hermione stood, breathing, until she heard the Wedding March start, and the mahogany doors swung open. She stood facing the altar where Oliver stood, smiling at her, and she walked down the aisle.

Her parents had been away in Columbia on a compassionate dentist mission when Oliver had proposed, and were actually flying back to England at that moment.

She got to the altar, and Oliver took her arm and they turned to the minister.

The minister, who was a great-uncle of Oliver's, looked down on them from a dais, frowning. "We are gathered here in the sight of God and all these witnesses, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Do you, Oliver Nigel Wood, take her, Hermione Anne Granger, to be your lawful wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health until death do you part?"

"I do," Oliver said, as Hermione slipped a platinum band onto his ring finger.

"And do you, Hermione Anne Granger," Thermon Wood said, sifting his gaze to Hermione, who resisted the urge to back up a few paces, "take him, Oliver Nigel Wood, to be your lawful wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health until death do you part?"

"I do," Hermione responded, as Oliver just slipped the ring he'd given her when he proposed, since Hermione had insisted that they use that ring instead of buying a new one to save money.

"Then, by the power vested in me by the Church of England and the Ministry of Magic, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Oliver leaned over and kissed Hermione, savoring the moment. They broke apart and faced their family and friends and walked down the aisle to the reception.

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Two Years Later

Hermione and Oliver stood in their front yard in the house they'd bought a year and a half ago when she was six months pregnant with their son Alec, and watched him as he ran around playing with his new puppy.

Oliver stood behind his wife, his arms wrapped around her, hands resting on her seven months pregnant stomach, hoping to feel the baby kick. This was baby number two, and Hermione was hoping it was a girl.

He kissed her head, getting a mouthful of hair. Hermione had taken to pinning her hair up in a bun like she had at their wedding. She looked up and him and smiled.

"Ollie," she said, she was the only one allowed to call him Ollie, "could you please tell me what color my shoes are? I can't tell."

He peered over her stomach to see her shoes. "Matching. They're both black and flip-flops."

"Yes," she said, "but are they the same kind of flip-flop?"

He squinted at the shoes a little harder. "Um, the same, I believe."

"Good," she said. She looked up at him again. "I love you."

He turned her so she faced him. "And I love you," he said, kissing her.

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A/N: So, this is the end, and now I have more time for other things, like Growing Up! Or another story. So, what did you think? Did you like the ending? Please review!!!!!!!!!!


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